


The love of a Witcher

by tashaxxxxxx



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Family, Established Relationship, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Torture/Violence, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 48,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24573253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashaxxxxxx/pseuds/tashaxxxxxx
Summary: Jaskier had lived with Geralt and Ciri in Kaer Mohen for 6 years and he could honestly say it had been the happiest years of his life.There was just one thing though.  Geralt was a Witcher.  A member of the scariest gang in London.  And he may or may not have forgotten to mention this to Jaskier.…What will Geralt do when Jaskier finds out about what he does in the worst possible way and how will Jaskier handle being used against the man he loves.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 32
Kudos: 318





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of a prologue of Jaskier and Geralt's relationship. The real story will begin in the next chapter

Jaskier had met Geralt by accident, well he called it destiny but that always got an exaggerated eye roll from Geralt. In fairness, Jaskier remembered their first meeting with no small amount of embarrassment on his part. Jaskier had been running late to one of his University lectures when he’d collided head first into the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen.

Geralt had been the perfect gentleman, helping gather the scattered music sheets that had fallen out of Jaskier’s satchel upon the collision and even apologising to the rambling musician. Jaskier could barely stammer out an apology himself when he heard the deep timber coming from the white haired man’s chest. Coward that he was, Jaskier made his excuses very quickly and he honestly neve expected to see the white haired stranger again. A fact that he cursed himself a number of times, wishing he’d gotten the man’s number at least. But then, he’d been to distracted by those bloody muscles.

And then that very same week, Jaskier had been wrapping up a performance at the Sorceresses’ Lodge and low and behold the white haired, handsome stranger was leaning against the bar talking to Yennefer. Jaskier had felt his heart jump in his throat when the man recognised him and even came up to him to see if he was alright after their collision the other day.

Jaskier might have left it at that, his awkward fucking brain refusing to string two words together to make a sentence when Yennefer, God bless her, yelled at Geralt to “stop stalling and give the little lark his number already, you’ve been talking about him all week.” Jaskier didn’t think it was possible to fall in love at first sight but the way Geralt ducked his head in embarrassment at Yennefer’s words and handed over his number grumbling quietly had Jaskier’s heart threatening to jump out of his chest then and there.

Their first fate wasn’t ideal. Hell it was awkward as all hell if Jaskier was honest with himself. He rambled on all night about, shit to this day Jaskier has no idea what he even said to Geralt in the first hour of that date, and Geralt barely said a word. But then Geralt walked him home and asked if he could see him again.

Geralt introduced Jaskier to Ciri the day after Jaskier had finished his final exam (3 months into them dating). Jaskier had been a tad stressed (or rather a lot stressed thank you very much Geralt) and Geralt had turned up at his doorstep the next night with Ciri in tow.

“I hope you don’t mind, she insisted on meeting you.” Geralt said apologetically after Jaskier had been introduced to Ciri and Jaskier had said it was fine, hoping the white haired man didn’t notice hi heart had just fully melted into a puddle on the floor at the absolute adorable way Geralt had acted with Ciri.

Jaskier had been aware that Ciri existed, Geralt had told him about her on their 6th date. She was his adopted daughter. He had been a close friend to her Father Duny (who had died along with her Mother when Ciri was 5). When her grandparents had died when Ciri was 9 (a year previous), Geralt become her guardian as he was the only family she had (even if they weren’t blood related) and Geralt hadn’t wanted to see her grown up in foster care. Jaskier had hushed Geralt with a kiss to stop the man’s rambling, promising that Geralt having an adoptive daughter was most definitely not a problem.

His friends thought Jaskier was mad to move in with Geralt when they’d only been dating a year. To be fair, his friends thought Geralt was the terrifying and secretly abusing Jaskier; a fact the aspiring musician yelled at them for often. Geralt may look like a little (or rather very) terrifying but he had a big heart. 

Jaskier moved into Geralt’s little cottage which he shared with Ciri, not wanting to uproot the little family, in Kaer Mohen. It was an hour’s drive outside of London, which meant Jaskier could still get to his work in a small recording studio in the city easily enough. In fact, when Geralt wasn’t ferrying Ciri to and from school, the man often gave Jaskier lifts to work on his motorcycle.

It had been a bit scary at first, being brought into Geralt’s family, but Jaskier had been quickly and warmly welcomed. He thought it helped a bit that Ciri glared daggers at Geralt’s youngest brother Lambert when the man’s first words to Jaskier were “Got yourself a scrawny one their brother.” 

Vesemir (Geralt’s adopted Father) had taken Jaskier to one side the night Jaskier met Geralt’s family for the first time and said Thank you. When Jaskier had frowned and asked why he was being thanked Vesemir had just smiled slightly and said “For making him smile. No one’s been able to do that outside of Ciri.” Jaskier had felt his heart swell with happiness at that.

It turned out Yennefer was an old friend of Geralt’s “scary ex, Lambert had said but she didn’t seem to take it personally that Geralt was now dating Jaskier) and she was like a Mother to Ciri. It had taken a little while to get Yennefer to trust Jaskier, the violet eyes beauty had been convinced he was going to hurt Geralt (which was absurd in Jaskier’s opinion but then he’d quickly learnt Geralt didn’t let people in easily, even his own family). After she’d gotten past that though she and Jaskier had become fast friends. A fact that seemed to annoy Geralt to no end.

Jaskier had lived with Geralt and Ciri in Kaer Mohen for 6 years and he could honestly say it had been the happiest years of his life.

There was just one thing though. Geralt was a Witcher. A member of the scariest fucking gang in London. And he may or may not have forgotten to mention this to Jaskier.


	2. Chapter 2

“Geralt.” Yennefer didn’t bother looking up as the white haired Witcher leant against the bar watching as she cleaned the wine glass in her hand. 

“Yennefer, heard there was some trouble.” Geralt stated, as always getting straight to the point.

Yennefer rolled her eyes, trying to resist the urge to snort in laughter. “If you call those Nilfgaardian’s last night trouble.” Yennefer had been running the Sorceresses Lodge alongside her old friend Triss Merigold for the last 8 years and she was more than capable of dealing with a few drunk unruly thugs.

“Yennefer.” Geralt growled and Yennefer once more resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “They were here for a reason.”

“Yes, I’m aware Geralt.” Yennefer could hear the sarcasm clear as day in her voice and knew Geralt could to. “They were here scouting at the Witcher’s headquarters.” Geralt grunted in agreement. “And they heard nothing. No ones stupid enough to talk in public.” Yennefer continued, ignoring the glare Geralt was sending her way. “Anyway, Lambert kicked them out the minute he realised they were there.”

“Which started the fight.” Geralt replied, nodding over the broken bar stools that Yennefer hadn’t had chance to clean up yet.

“Yes, I think Triss was going to murder Lambert when he smashed that over his head.” Yennefer laughed a little remembering the way Triss had laid into Lambert when he’d finished kicking out the Nilfgaardian’s.

“Yes, I think he’s still picking glass out of his clothes.” Geralt replied and Yennefer glanced at the glass remains of the glass Triss had thrown at Lambert and laughed. “You need to be careful of the Nilfaardian’s.”

“Yes, yes I know. They’re encroaching on your territory, so just get on with whipping those bastards back so we can go back to normal.” Yennefer sighed. “You never usually let it rag on this long.

Geralt growled under his breath. “It’s not as simple as usual. They’re organised. Equipped. They know what they’re doing.” Geralt sighed. “But were almost there. Few weeks and that business will all be over.” He didn’t elaborate and Yennefer didn’t ask him to. Plausible deniability and all that.

“Anyway, that’s enough about business.” Yennefer continued. “I heard a rumour from Eskel.” This got Geralt’s attention once more and if Yennefer didn’t know him any better she would have said he’d blushed. 

“Eskel needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.” Geralt grumbled, he’d only told his brother because he’d been caught looking in the act so to speak.

Yennefer laughed again, before her face turned serious. “You need to tell him?”

“Who?” Geralt replied, looking at the table and refusing to meet Yennefer’s eyes.

“Jaskier.” Yennefer said, though she might as well have said ‘duh’ the way it came out. “He needs to know what you do Geralt if you’re going to take the next step with him.”

“Ho is getting married going to change anything.” Geralt retorted anger clear in his voice. “We already live together. He’s particularly Ciri’s second Father.” 

“Because he deserves to know the truth.” 

“I suppose you want me to tell Ciri as well.” Anger blazed in Yennefer’s violet eyes at this.

“There’s a difference. Ciri is still a child. Jaskier isn’t.” Geralt put his head in his arms. Ever since he’d asked Jaskier to move in with him his family had been telling him to tell Jaskier the truth, Yennefer being the most vocal but most certainly not alone in her opinion. Deep down Geralt knew he should tell Jaskier, that t wasn’t fair he’d spent the last 6 years essentially lying to the man but he couldn’t. He loved Jaskier and he couldn’t face the idea of Jaskier looking at him like he was a monster. He couldn’t lose the other man. So no, he couldn’t tell Jaskier the truth, coward that he was.

“No Yennefer. Jaskier doesn’t need to know.” Geralt pushed himself off the bar and turned to the door, only pausing when Yennefer’s voice made him turn back.

“Jaskier deserves to know the truth Geralt. He won’t leave you. He loves you.” Geralt didn’t even acknowledge what Yennefer had said as he walked out of the room.

……

“Geralt, you’re late.” Ciri’s excited voice said as he sat down at the table next to Jaskier.

“Sorry.” He grunted, looking over at the drinks already on the table.

“We were waiting for you to order.” Jaskier smiled and squeezed Geralt’s hand under the table. Geralt couldn’t help but smile back as he looked into those blue eyes, gleaming with happiness and love. “How was work?” Geralt felt his heart tighten as it always did whenever work came up around Jaskier and Ciri. As far as the pair were concerned he was involved in the family propert business with Lambert, Eskel and Vesimir.

“Good.” Geralt replied. “How was your day?”

“Mr Mousesack gave my essay an A.” Ciri answered, gaining a beaming smile from Jaskier.

“That is excellent news.” Jaskier grinned, “We’ll have to get ice cream in celebration.”

Ciri rolled her eyes but they danced with laughter, “I’m not a kid anymore Jask.”

“Nonsense, you are never to old for ice cream. I personally would eat ice cream every day if this one allowed it.” Jaskier poked Geralt playfully in the ribs, making the larger man chuckle a bit. “However for some reason we are forced to have vegetables.”

“They’re good for you.” Geralt rplied, as Jaskier and Ciri looked at eachother and rolled their eyes together as if they’d planned it.

“You’re a spoil sport, you know that Geralt.” Ciri laughed. “Now let’s order, I’m hungry.” 

Dinner went as always did and Geralt felt the pressures of the day slowly lifting as he watched Jaskier and Ciri interact. Jaskier was explaining to them about a new artist named Valdo Marx had come into his studio demanding that Jaskier drop everything and write him a song immediately. “He was prancing around like a bloody peacock, took everything I had not to laugh him out the door.” Jaskier’s voice was animated while he told the story, bringing what was probably a boring interaction to life for Ciri. Geralt couldn’t help but smile as Ciri sat captivated as she always was with Jaskier’s stories. When Ciri had first met Jaskier, the other man had spent hours making up stories to tell Ciri just to make her smile and laugh. It was the moment Geralt had fallen in love with Jaskier, even if it had taken him a little longer to admit that.

“So, I was promised ice cream.” Ciri announced, looking expectantly at Jaskier and Geralt.

“Not here, there’s a nice one a few blocks down.” Geralt replied, pulling out his wallet to pay for their meal.

“That would be the one that dear Geralt here took me for our 1st year anniversey.” Jaskier replied and the look he sent Geralt was so full of love that Geralt thought his heart might burst of it. Unconsciously, Geralt’s hand travelled to the small ring box he had tucked away in his jacket pocket. He’d been carrying it around for weeks now, waiting for the right moment and he thought this might be it but then Yennefer’s words came back to him.

Shaking his head, Geralt shrugged into his leather jacket, watching as Jaskier and Ciri followed suit and the small family of 3 walked out of the restaurant.

……

Ciri sat on a bench, eating her ice cream and pretending to look at her phone as she watched Jaskier and Geralt a few paces ahead near the pond in Hyde lake. Geralt had an arm slung over Jaskier’s shoulder holding him close and Jaskier was leaning into his neck. Ciri had snapped a quick picture a few moments ago, wanting to capture the picture perfectly.

She hadn’t been sure of Jaskier when Geralt had first told her about him. She’d barely known Geralt a year but she’d quickly become protective of him. Well, as protective as a 10 year could be. She’d noticed quickly that he wasn’t close with anyone. Even with his brother’s (Eskel and Lambert) it was like he he’d them at arms length. She’d asked Vesemir about it before and the older man had shook his head a bit sadly and told Ciri that there was a reason Geralt hadn’t wanted her to go into foster care. He’d never elaborated, as much as Ciri had tried to make him. Yennefer managed to get through to Geralt a lot of the time, usually by yelling at him. They yelled at each other a lot but Ciri knew it was because they cared about each other and that was the only way the two idiots could show it.

Looking back, Ciri realised her first mistrust of Jaskier was that she was scared Geralt would abandon her and after losing her Grandmother so recently Ciri honestly couldn’t take losing someone else dear to her. But she’d been wrong. By the end of their first meeting, where Jaskier had spent the whole time entertaining her with stories and songs, all her fears had dissolved.

Looking at the two men stood together she felt a warm glow in her chest. They were her family.

2 weeks later

Geralt sighed as he looked down on Jaskier’s sleeping form. The younger man had snuggled into the Witcher’s bare chest in the night and his messy brown hair was sticking up at angles from where it rested on the mattress. Glancing over at his alarm clock, Geralt sighed. What he wouldn’t give to be able to stay in bed all morning. But he couldn’t, work was calling.

As he carefully extricated himself from Jaskier’s sleeping form, the younger man stirred and bleary blue eyes blinked up at him. “Where are you going?” 

“Work.” Geralt replied, placing a kiss on Jaskier’s head. “Go back to sleep.” Geralt said and Jaskier snuggled back under the duvet.

Geralt quietly put on his clothes and was about to tip toe out of the bedroom, thinking Jaskier was asleep when the man spoke again. “I’m going to take Ciri into the city today.”

“Let me know when you’re done shopping I can come meet you for dinner.” Jaskier seemed to beam at this and Geralt felt a swell in his chest. What had he ever done to deserve his family.

“Ciri will like that.” Geralt nodded. “Now give me a kiss before you abandon me.” Jaskier’s lips were warm against Geralt’s and the younger man’s hands wrapped in Geralt’s white hair. “And you’re sure you can’t come back to bed.”

“Sorry.” Geralt hummed as he gently pulled Jaskier’s hands from his grip. “I’ll see you tonight.” Jaskier hummed and closed his eyes. By the time Geralt closed the bedroom door behind him he could hear gentle snoring coming from the bed.

…….

“How the fuck did they find out.” Geralt growled from is place at the table, looking at the note Lambert had handed him.

“Someone must have talked.” Eskel replied. He was leaning against the fire place next to Vesemir’s chair at the head of the table.

“Give me a few day’s, I’ll find out who talked.” Lambert cracked his knuckles as he paced the length of the living room.

“If someone talked it’s someone in this room.” Vesemir replied, ever the voice of reason. He was the head of the family and while not responsible for the day to day running of the business he was still the person his boys went to with any issues.

“None of us would have said anything.” Lambert growled. He was always the rashest of his brothers. “So how the fuck did they find out we were going to clear them out.

The Nilfgaardian’s had turned up in London a few months ago and had been blocking the Witcher’s businesses at every turn. They’d started attacking the bars and shops the Witcher’s offered protection to, they’d re-started the drug running business Geralt has only just shut down the month before they turned up. They’d fire bombed a few of their warehouses and destroyed the illegal product they had sitting there. And they’d killed a few of their men. 

They’d retaliated, of course they fucking had. But unlike every other gang that had tried to take over their turf, the Nilfgaardian’s had been prepared. They hadn’t crumbled when their people started going missing, beaten to a pulp outside their establishments. Hadn’t missed a fucking beat when their drug pens had blown up, just gotten some more of the shit shipped into London and were selling it as if nothing had happened.

That had changed a few weeks ago when the Witcher’s had had a tip off that the Nilfgaardian’s were getting a massive shipment this coming Thursday at the docks. Heroin, cocaine. You name it, they were shipping it. The only people who knew about the plan to take the stuff and finally crush the Nilfgaardian’s under the Witcher’s sole had been the people in this room. And the snitch.

“Shit.” Geralt growled. “How trustful was that guy that told us about this.”

“He seemed pretty certain.” Eskel replied. “You think it was a trap?”

Geralt shook his head. “If it was then they would have just let us come and take it. They wouldn’t have sent a fucking letter.”

“Not unless the snitch told them he’d told us.” Lambert growled, dumping himself onto one of the chairs on the table. “You saw what they did to Marc, the last guy of ours they killed. If they did that again then that snitch would have told them everything he told us.”

“Shit.” Geralt grunted.

“There’s one more thing.” Vesemir said, pulling out a second letter from his pocket. “I’m sorry but we needed to discuss business first.” Vesemir apologised, “I’ve already put men on them. To keep them safe.”

Geralt didn’t see a word as he read the final page of the Nilfgaard’s letter.

It read:  
Jaskier and Ciri are next.


	3. Chapter 3

“What do you think?” Ciri asked, holding up a dress for Jaskier’s inspection. It was a light blue with daisy patterns running through it.

“Lovely, stick it on the pile.” Jaskier grinned. He was wearing tight fitting black jeans today with a light blue polo shirt buttoned half way up. “Is this for anything special?” Jaskier had noticed Ciri had been a bit more critical towards the clothing being picked out today than usual. 

“Nothing really.” Ciri replied evasively. “Well, maybe…Dara asked me on a date.” Ciri said, adding a bright red summer dress to the pile.

“That’s excellent news.” Jaskier grinned. He’d met Dara a few times and he seemed a sweet boy, certainly smitten with Ciri. 

“Can you not tell Geralt or Yenenfer yet, you know what they’re like and I…I don’t want them to scare him off.” Jaskier nodded gravely. Geralt and Yennefer were highly protective of Ciri and while Jaskier was as well he understood that he couldn’t wrap Ciri in bubble wrap and hide her from the world forever. A fact neither Geralt or Yennefer seemed to have realised yet.

“Cross my hear hope to die.” He said, doing just that and gaining a laugh from Ciri. “So, shall we go and try these on?” Ciri nodded, leading the way to the changing rooms.

They ended up buying both dresses, Ciri unsure which she liked better. “Where to next?” Jaskier asked as he took hold of the bags with their purchases in. They’d spent the last few hours on Oxford street shopping and if he was honest, he was getting a bit tired.

“I wanted to hear the new song you were working on.” Ciri replied, smiling up sweetly at Jaskier. “I know you said it wasn’t ready yet but we’re near your studio so…”

“Well, I’ve always been a bit of a show off and could do with the feedback.” He grinned, always eager to show off his new material to an eager audience. He linked arms with Ciri, noticing how the girl came up to his shoulder now. He couldn’t help but smile a little at that, remembering when he’d first met her and she’d been this scrawny little girl who barely came up to his waist. She’d grown up so much in these last few years and Jaskier couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at the woman she was growing into.

…..

“They’re not picking up.” Geralt growled as Lambert sped down the country roads at a speed which would usually have had Geralt cursing him for a lunatic. Usually Geralt loved living out of the hustle and bustle of London but right now he hated how far away he was from the man he loved and his daughter.

“Vesemir said he called someone to watch them as soon as he read the note.” Eskel reminded Geralt from the back seat. “If anything had happened we would have known about it.”

“I can’t lose them.”

“You won’t.”

……

Ciri always rolled her eyes when Jaskier preached the no phone rule in his studio, saying they messed with the equipment. He always insisted she leave it in the car whenever she visited. His studio was a small apartment Jaskier owned and used to write and record his own music. He also rented out the recording studio he had set up in the back for aspiring artists. In truth it was the apartment Jaskier had lived in before he had moved in with Geralt and Ciri. Even though Jaskier didn’t live here anymore not much had changed since Ciri had first seen it.

The recording studio had been there from day one (or at least that was the first thing Jaskier had had installed when he’d moved into the apartment at the age of 18). The kitchen was small and cramped while the living room/bedroom when Jaskier used to live here was filled to the brim with musical instruments. Sheet music scattered most every surface. Ciri loved it.

“Come on then.” She smiled as Jaskier motioned to the recording studio in the back. It had changed since Ciri had first seen it. Now less of a self made studio of a university student to a proper recording one. Jaskier had made a name for himself in music and while he might not be a famous popstar like Beyonce, he was very well known in the music business and people came from all over to get him to write and compose them songs.

“Just let me get my guitar.” Jaskier grinned as Ciri set herself up on one of the seats outside of the glass recording area.

Ciri was particularly bouncing in her seat in excitement as Jaskier went into the living room and picked out his favourite acoustic guitar. It had been a gift from Geralt and Jaskier found he used it more than any of his other instrument.

He was just about to go back into the recording studio when he heard a loud bang from outside followed by people screaming. Heart racing, Jaskier looked out of the window and felt his heart stop when he saw 5 men in black ski masks walking across the street. 2 men lay dead on the street next to where his car was parked. One of them looked a lot like someone he’d met up at Vesemir’s house when he’d been dropping off Geralt’s lunch the other week.

“What’s going on?” Ciri started exiting the recording studio and looking at where Jaskier was standing. “Jask, what’s…” A loud bang came from downstairs as the door leading to the top floor apartment burst open. 

“Window.” Jaskier stuttered, grabbing hold of Ciri’s hand as he all but dragged her to window that led to the roof terrace. He could hear shouting coming from downstairs and another loud bang.

Tears were running down Ciri’s face as she clutched Jaskier’s hand in a death grip. Jaskier’s shaking hand betrayed him as he fumbled with the window’s lock. Banging was coming from outside the studio door now and Ciri was shaking were she stood next to him. 

“Open up!” Voices yelled through the door and a loud bang followed. A bullet flew straight through the wooden door and Ciri screamed. Jaskier managed to get the window open as the door was kicked open and the 5 men from outside burst in.

“Ciri, run!” Jaskier screamed, pushing the crying 16 year old out of the door.

“Jaskier!” Ciri screamed as one of the men in the ski masks grabbed Jaskier by the should and dragged him away from the window.

“Ciri run!” Jaskier screamed again, wildly kicking the man that had hold of him. The man stumbled, losing his grip on Jaskier, as Jaskier’s kick hit him between the legs. He darted out of the way of grabbing hands, managing to push himself halfway out of the window. “Ciri, run now!” Ciri looked back once, fear clear in her large emerald eyes.

Hands grabbed Jaskier on the leg and he kicked wildly but two sets of hands were pulling him back out of the shoulders. “Please, run.” Jaskier breathed and Ciri looked once more at Jaskier before bolting across the roof and down the roof access stair at the other end.

“She went down.” One of the men yelled and Jaskier felt fear clench in his gut. They were going to catch Ciri. Without thinking, Jaskier twisted out of the grip the 2 men had on his arm. They obviously weren’t expecting it and Jaskier was able to tackle one of the men running out of the door before he could get to far.

The two fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs, and Jaskier grunted in pain as his arm hit the hard wooden floor. The man he’d tackled was pushing him off him and Jaskier used the small advantage he had of being on top to jump to his feet and try to make a run for it. Except the man on the floor grabbed his ankle and Jaskier ended up sprawling onto the hallways floor.

Kicking wildly behind him, Jaskier felt his foot connect with something solid and a grunt of pain before he jumped to his feet again. Distantly, past the adrenalin pumping through his veins, he heard a door open downstairs and what he thought was Ciri’s voice shouting for help.

He made it as far as the top of the stairs before he heard a loud bang and a minute later a blinding pain in his knee and warm blood gushing down his pants. He fell forward down the first flight of stair, head banging on the last step and knocking him into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely reviews. Hope you all enjoy

Ciri ran as fast as she could, heart pounding as she burst through the downstairs door and onto the street. The street was chaos, people running around screaming. She could hear sirens in the distance. There had been blood on the downstairs hallway and Ciri had slipped in it falling face first into the blood pool and screamed when she saw the dead body of the downstairs tenant. 

Blood was splattered on her jeans and her hands. Tears and snot were running down her cheeks and Ciri turned, fully expecting Jaskier to be behind her. But he wasn’t there. No one was there. People pushed past her, running away from the scene. There was no one around. “You have to help, please you have to…” Ciri shouted as a man ran out of the shop next door. He didn’t even slow, just pushed right past her fear in his eyes.

Those men had grabbed Jaskier. They’d pulled him away from the window so he couldn’t follow her. He’d yelled at her to run. He’d told her to go and she had. She’d abandoned him. He might be dead. A loud sob rushed out of Ciri. She felt like crumping to the ground but then she realised that those men would be coming out any minute. If they saw her, they’d kill her. They’d hurt her.

Fear gripped Ciri as she ran down the street, ducking into the alley a few stored up from Jaskier’s studio. She slipped behind a large bin just in time as one of the men in a ski mask staggered outside. “The cops are on the way.” He yelled and Ciri pressed closer to the bin, scared he might have seen her.

“Where’s the brat?” She heard another voice shout.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ve got the boyfriend. That’ll have to do.” The first voice glanced down the street. Slowly Ciri peered out from behind her hiding place and almost screamed again when she saw two men hauling an unconscious Jaskier out of the building. The whole right side of his pants was wet and blood was dripping onto the floor. One of the men opened up the van door and Ciri watched in horror as Jaskier was thrown bodily into the back of the van.

Within a minute 5 men were in the van and were speeding up the street, taking Jaskier with them.

…….

Geralt particularly ran down the hospital corridor, panting in panic as he searched madly for Ciri. “Geralt.” Her small voice echoed in his head as he saw her sitting on one of the white hospital beds. She had blood on her clothes, tears in her eye and she was shaking. 

“It’ ok, I’m here.” He murmured into her blonde hair as she threw herself into his arms. She as sobbing into his shoulder in a way she hadn’t done since she was 12 years old. Gently he stroked her hair hushing her gently as her sobs grew louder and louder.

“Ciri.” Yennefer’s voice broke Ciri’s sobbing for a moment as the girl lifted her head to look at Yennefer.

“They took Jask.” Ciri’s voice as shaky and all of a suden she started sobbing uncontrollably into Geralt’s shoulder again.

….

It took a sedative to finally calm Ciri down enough to let go of Geralt. Right now she was asleep in a hospital bed fast asleep. They’d changed out of her blood stained clothes and she was wearing a hospital gown. “It’s a miracle she wasn’t hurt.” Eskel murmured from where he was leaning against the wall in the corridor.

Geralt didn’t say anything. Anger was bubbling in him, overtaking the blinding panic he’d felt when he’d arrived at Jaskier’s studio to find police surrounding the area. 2 policemen had found Ciri hiding in the alley and had taken her straight to the hospital and Geralt had felt a small sense of relief in him when he saw Ciri alive. Safe.

At least until he’d realised Jaskier was missing. Taken. Ciri had said these men had taken Jaskier. Alive.

“We’ve got men all over the city looking for him. We’ll find him Geralt.” Eskel put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be ok.”

Geralt just shook his hand off, looking through the door window at his daughter asleep in a hospital bed. This shouldn’t have happened. This should never had happened. How the fuck did he let it happen.

“Geralt. Don’t lose control. Ciri needs you.” Yennefer murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder and dragging him out of his thoughts. “She needs us to be strong now.”

Geralt didn’t say a word, shaking Yennefer’s hand off his shoulder and pushing the door to Ciri’s hospital room open. He stroked a gently hand over her hair, placing a kiss on her head before turning back to Yennefer and Eskel.

“I want men on this room at all times.” He growled, pushing his way back out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Yennefer shouted from behind him.

“To find Jaskier. And kill those Nilfgaardian bastards.”

………  
Geralt walked up the stairs to Jaskier’s studio in silence. The police had finished their examination of the scene so Geralt hadn’t had a problem getting in (that and the Witcher’s had half of Scotland Yard in their pocket). The body of the downstairs tenant had already been taken away and Geralt felt glad about that. He didn’t know her name she had been a kind old lady. Jaskier said when he’d first moved in upstairs she would cook hm food and leave it outside for him. She always said he looked to thin. She hadn’t deserved to die.

There was blood travelling down the top flight of stairs. Jaskier’s blood. No one had told him but instinct told Geralt Jaskier had tried to run. And he’d been hurt doing it. 

Lambert and Coen (an old running buddy of Lambert’s who’ been working for the Witcher’s as long as Lambert had) were stood in the trashed music room of Jaskier’s studio. Geralt tried to ignore the pang of pain in his heart when he saw Jaskier’s beloved instruments thrown around the apartment. Bending down, Geralt picked up the guitar he’d bought Jaskier. Jaskier loved this thing. Always had it strung over his back when he was in one of his composing moods. “You always have to be prepared for when inspiration hits you.” Jaskier always said laughing and Geralt had hummed in agreement. He loved to listen to Jaskier’s long fingers running over the strings, plucking out the starts to a new song or just a random melody. He was never still. Always had to be moving.

“What happened?” Geralt grunted, placing the guitar gently onto the battered sofa. The same sofa he and Jaskier had first made out after their awkward first date. Geralt always loved his awkward rambling.

“Looks like Nilfgaard’s men surprised our guys.” Lambert grunted. “Officers said they were shot in the back of the head, execution style. They didn’t see it coming.” Great just grunted, wondering how the hell they’d been taken so unawares. But then, it was obvious really. They’d gone nearly 8 years with no serious threats. Sure they had the odd rebellion, someone got to big for their boots and decided to try and take on the Witcher’s. But they never got far. Never touched the Witcher’s. Until Nilfgaard. But even when the other gang had started this campaign of hate never in a million years did Geralt think they’d come for his family. His innocent family.

“How’s Ciri?” Coen asked, he had a soft spot the blonde haired girl. When she’d first arrived at Kaer Mohen he’d been the one to get her out her shell.

“Yenn and Eskel are with her.” Geralt grunted. He wouldn’t say she was fine. How could her. Se was 16 years old and life had thrown her a shit hand with her parent’s death and the death of her Grandparents but this…this was so so much worse. This had put Ciri in direct danger. And Geralt had no one to blame but himself.

“Any leads?” Geralt asked, eyes resting on a picture of he and Jaskier. It had fallen down in what Geralt presumed was a struggle. Ciri had taken the picture. They’d been on holiday, Geralt can’t remember where, but Jaskier looked so happy. Smile wide and open, blue eyes wide and happy. Geralt closed his eyes, imagining those eyes wide with terror. Not understanding why this was happening. Fuck, maybe Yennefer had been right. Maybe Geralt should have told Jaskier to truth. At least then he would have seen Geralt for the monster he was and left him before this happened.

“We’ve got men searching every one of Nilfgaard’s plots.” Coen replied.

“And Merigold called up a few old friends on the club scenes to keep an eye and ear out for anything out of the ordinary.” Lambert replied. He lifted a hand to put on Geralt but stopped himself, seeming to think better of it. “We’ll find him.”

“Give me a list of addresses, I’ll join the search.” Geralt grunted, ignoring Lambert’s attempts at comfort. He didn’t deserve comfort. Jaskier was missing, probably injured. Possibly dead already. And it was Geralt’s fault.

…..

Yenn gently stroked Ciri’s white blonde hair, watching the girl sleep. She’d grown so much in the last 6 years that Yennefer had known her but right now she looked just like the scared 10 year old girl Yennefer had first met 6 years ago, wondering who Yennefer was and why Geralt had asked her to look after her. Yennefer smiled in thought. She’d always wanted children but she couldn’t have them. Infertility was a bitch and Yennefer had spent years trying to find a solution. And the solution had come so easily and unexpectedly into her life when Geralt had walked into the Sorceresses’ Lodge and asked Yennefer to keep an eye on Ciri while he did business.

Sighing, Yennefer lifted her eyes to the door outside. Eskel had left a few hours ago to join in the search and 2 Witcher’s were now standing outside on guard. Yennefer didn’t know them personally, shit she made it her business not to know them personally, but she was glad they were there. To protect Ciri. Though at the same time she wished Nilfaard tried something. Then she could show them exactly what she thought of the people who had tried to take her daughter away from her.

“Yenn?” Ciri’s small voice brought Yennefer out of her daydream of murder and back to the present. The girl’s eyes were blinking rapidly, emerald green shining with tears. “Where’s Geralt? Did he find Jaskier?” Yennefer could hear the panic rising in Ciri’s voice and hushed her gently, stroking the blonde hair in a way that she used to do when Ciri had nightmares.

“Geralt’s gone to find Jaskier.” Yennefer replied, trying to keep the anger out of her voice. She might not have liked Jaskier at first meeting, the man was far too loud and obnoxious about it and he was far far too optimistic about life in general for Yennefer’s taste. But he had a sharp wit underneath all that and a fashion sense that Yennefer, begrudgingly, admired. They’d become fast friends. After Yennefer had threatened to disembowel him from head to toe if he so much as thought to hurt Geralt or Ciri.

“He told me to run.” Tear’s were running down Ciri’s eyes and Yennefer felt her heart tighten. Ciri was in her first year of College and had started to grow up too fast in Yennefer’s opinion. But right now, she was a scared girl who needed her comfort. “I wanted to help him but Jask told me to run.” Ciri was full on sobbing now and Yennefer sat at the edge of the hospital bed and gathered the girl into her arms. “I left him.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” Yennefer said, gently stroking Ciri’s hair again. “You did the right thing. You got yourself to safety.”

“But I left him.” Ciri cried again. “And they put him in the back of a van and took him.” Yennefer nearly choked then at the knowledge that Ciri had seen what had happened to Jaskier but Yennefer wasn’t a soft hearted woman, she worked for the Witcher’s for Christ’s sake and she wasn’t about to let her own emotions get the better of her. Ciri needed her to be strong. “He was bleeding and he was unconscious. What if he’s dead.” Ciri choked and Yennefer gently rocked her in her arms.

“He’s not dead.” Yennefer growled, refusing to even consider the possibility. “If he was we’d know.”

Ciri said nothing, just continued to sob into Yennefer’s arms. As she did so, Yennefer pulled out her phone to text Geralt what Ciri had told him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference to injuries and being injured. Nothing too graphic but this may change in later chapters. Also, apologies this is bit of a shorted chapter but I felt like this was a good place to stop.

Jaskier came slowly to wakefulness. His right knee was a dull throbbing pain and it felt like someone had taken a drill to his left temple. Groaning slightly, Jaskier felt his eyes flutter and close again without so much as seeing what was in front of him. Black spots danced in his vision and Jaskier felt himself floating back into blissful darkness when cold water splashed over his head.

Choking and spluttering, Jaskier gasped as ice cold water dripped down his body from his soaked hair. “That’s better.” He thought he head a voice say. Jaskier tried to move but he was tied down to a chair, hands bound bhind his back and legs bound to the chair legs.

“What…” Jaskier stuttered and then screamed as someone squeezed his knee. Distantly, Jaskier remembered a loud bang and pain in his right knee and thought maybe whoever was currently squeezing him there had shot him.

“Stop that. The boss needs him awake.” Another voice said and Jaskier breathed through his nose, trying to collect his thoughts as the searing pressure vanished. He was in a darkly lit room, the only light source being a single bulb above his head. There were no windows. Jaskier had no fucking clue where he was. Distantly, Jaskier remembered shots outside and telling Ciri to run and shit…where was Ciri. Was she ok?

“Hey, wake up.” Someone slapped him across the face not quite harshly but still enough to make the buzzing in Jaskier’s ears increase.

“Where…” Jaskier stammered, for once in his life out of words to say. The man didn’t say anything, just sat in a chair opposite the semi-conscious man, watching him.

It felt like Jaskier had been sat there for hours before anything happened. Every now and again his eyes would close as the black spots in his vision grew too many to ignore but then he’d be treated to anther bucket of water over his head or a sharp slap on his cheek. He was shivering in his bonds, his shirt clinging to him from the repeated soakings and his brown hair was clinging to his forehead. 

“He awake.” A man’s voice broke though Jaskier’s inner monologue and distantly he realised he’d drifted off again. 

“I’m awake.” Jaskier stammered, not wanting to be treated by another soaking. Distantly, he knew the way he was losing consciousness was not good but there honestly wasn’t much he could do about it. He figured the best thing to do was find out what these men wanted and get the hell out of here as soon as he could.

Realistically Jaskier knew he wasn’t getting out of this unscathed. The fact these men had seemed to target him specifically told him that much. But still, Jaskier’s stubborn brain refused to admit to the knowledge of being injured. At least any more injured than he currently was. “Good.” The man in front of him replied. He was young looking, probably not much older than Jaskier own 28 year old self.

“What do you want? I can give you money.” Jaskier’s mouth had finally started to work again. “I’ve got an inheritance, I can give you anything you want. Please, just let me go.” Jaskier hated the idea of using the money his parents had gifted to him, thinking if they didn’t he’d end up some starving street busker and that wouldn’t do well for the family image; but he’d do anything to get out of this situation.

“We don’t want your money Mr Pankratz.” The main sighed, pulling up a chair and positioning it in a way that his knees touched Jaskier. “Your name is Julian Alfred Pankratz.” Jaskier tried not to flinch at the name his parents had given him, he hadn’t used that name in years. Not since he’d moved to London at the age of 18. “But you go by the name of Jaskier. You graduated London University with honours in music, art and Literature. Even though you didn’t attend class as much as you should have and spent all your time playing at bars, such as the Sorceresses’ Lodge, where you still play today.” The man listed the facts of Jaskier’s in a way that a teacher might deliver a rather boring lecture. “You are a successful musician/songwriter. And right now you are living with a man named Geralt Rivia and his adopted daughter Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon. You see Mr Pankratz, or would you prefer Jaskier.” Jaskier flinched as the man placed under his chin, making his own eyes meet the man’s. “We know everything about you. Where you work, where you eat. Where you like to spend your time.”

“What do you want?” Jaskier managed to say. Fear was running through him and he was no shaking more in fright than the cold.

“In all honesty, not you.” The man sighed, letting go of Jaskier’s chin and standing up. “I’m after retribution you see. Against the Witcher’s. You might have heard of them I’m sure as your living with one of them.” Now Jaskier was just confused, what the hell was this man going on about. “They decided that they would try to run me out of town. Decided to burn my drug operations, kill my people. And well, if I didn’t take action then I would appear weak to my men, and I can’t have that.”

“I…I don’t understand.” Jaskier mumbled, ashamed that tears were running down his face.

“It’s very simple.” Cahir pulled Jaskier’s hair roughly up so he could look the smaller man in the eyes once more. Jaskier whimpered a little in pain. “Geralt Rivia, the man you profess to love runs most of the day to day operation of the Witcher’s. He ordered the hits on my men, ordered my buildings burnt down and he only has two weaknesses. You and his daughter. I couldn’t get the girl but I got you. And I am going to send Geralt your head when I’m finished as a message. Is that clear enough.

The man’s spit hit Jaskier in the face and Jaskier could feel himself trembling once more in fear. “I don’t understand…Geralt’s in property. He’s not a gangster. You’ve got the wrong man.”

“That’s cute.” One of the men standing in the corner and watching the proceedings laughed. “Cahir, Geralt didn’t tell him.” 

Cahir had a smirk on his face as he once more let go of Jaskier’s chin, letting it drop down to his chest. “It doesn’t really matter what you know. You’re still going to die.”

With this he nodded once to the men behind him and exited the room. One of the men walked out of the corner with a baseball bat in hand and Jaskier felt himself shrink in on himself. He didn’t understand what was going on. Geralt wasn’t a gangster. Geralt was a kind man. He’d known Geralt for 6 years, he’d know if Geralt had been lying to him all that time. Except Geralt didn’t talk about his work. Never. And that Cahir had seemed certain he meant Geralt, his Geralt.

Choking back a sob, Jaskier braced himself for the first him of the bat.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning graphic explanation of torture like methods.

The third building Geralt checked out that day was the same as the last 2. He’d been at this for the last 7 hours and it was nearing midnight. Jaskier had been missing for 9 hours and they had a total of jack shit.

“I think it’s time to wrap this up for the night.” Eskel put a hand on Geralt’s shoulder as they stood outside the Nilfgaardian warehouse currently up in smoke. Unlike the 2 places beforehand this place hadn’t been empty. 3 drug runners were currently being loaded into the back of a van, hoods tied over their heads so they couldn’t see what was going on.

“I’ll follow the van. Help get those bastards to talk.” Geralt didn’t really think they’d have anything useful to say but he’d be damned if he did nothing while those bastards had Jaskier.

“Yennefer called. She took Ciri home for the night and she was asking for you.” Eskel replied, calm as ever. “She needs you more than we do right now. You’re dead on your feet. Go home, get some sleep. Comfort your daughter.”

“I can’t just do nothing.” Geralt growled, hands clenching into fists at his side.

“You’re not doing nothing. You’re going home to look after your daughter.” Eskel replied, squeezing Geralt’s shoulder lightly. “And anyway, you’ve never had the stomach to do that sort of work. Lambert will get them to talk and with any luck we’ll have a location by tomorrow so we can get Jaskier back where he belongs.” Geralt said nothing. He knew Eskel was right but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

……

“She’s asleep.” Yennefer announced from her seat in Geralt’s living room. Geralt grunted, shrugging out of his leather jacket. He stopped for a minute as he looked at Jaskier’s light blue coat sitting on the coat hook. It had been too warm this morning for a coat but it the early spring weather had turned frigid in the last few hours.

“She ok?” Geralt asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge and passing one to Yennefer. She took it with a nod.

“She’s scared. She blames herself.” Geralt closed his eyes, leaning against the fridge.

“It’s not her fault.” Geralt growled.

“We know that but she doesn’t. She doesn’t understand what the hell us going on.” Geralt closed his eyes, not wanting to hear what Yennefer was going to say. “She’s going to ask questions. She already has. You’ll have to tell her the truth.”

“I know.” Geralt groaned. He’d never wanted to tell Ciri what he did. She was innocent, separate to all of this. Just like Jaskier.

He’d moved to the one of the kitchen draws and opened it, rummaging around and retrieving a small black box. “I was going to give him this the other week.” Geralt said, a sad sort of smile playing at his lips. “Then I remembered what you said.” Geralt turned to meet the violet blazing eyes of Yennefer. “I should have told him. I should have given him the chance to get the fuck away from me. Before he got hurt.”

“He wouldn’t have run you know.” Yennefer placed a hand on his arm and smiled slightly. “He loves you. It’s sickening to be honest, the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him. You never looked at me like that.”

Geralt just nodded. What he’d had with Yennefer had been fierce passion. Not healthy for either of them. The only good thing to come out of their relationship was their friendship. “It’s not your fault.” Yennefer continued. “You didn’t know this was going to happen and no one is going to blame you for this. Least of all Jaskier.” Geralt didn’t say a word because, honestly, he didn’t think that was true.

……….

“That’s enough.” Cahir’s calm voice broke through to the men that had been hitting Jaskier with the wooden bat on and off for the last hour. The man standing behind Jaskier, holding him up so his partner had access to the singers upper torso let go.

Jaskier would have fallen off the chair if not far the fact he was bound so tightly to it. His ribs were aching something fiercely and he thought a afew of them were probably broken. A punch to his gut had tears appearing at Jaskier’s eyes as he coughed through the pain, which only made the pain in his ribs even worse. He’d lost the feeling in his hurt knee a little while ago and he knew that was bad but he couldn’t bring himself to care too much.

“What do you think Geralt would say if he saw you like this. Pathetic. Beaten.” Cahir had his head pressed up against the singers temple and Jaskier made to headbutt him at the sound of Geralt’s name but Cahir just laughed.

Jaskier dropped his head down, leaning as far forward as his arms bound to the back of the chair allowed him to. Distantly, he could hear the scraping of metal against the hard wooden floor. Looking down, Jaskier was a bit confused when he saw blood dripping down to make a splatter pattern.

Rough hands grabbed hold of Jaskier’s hands behind his back and he felt steel cutting through the rip ties holding him place. He groaned in pain as feeling circulated back into his hands. Unfortunately for Jaskier, his current position of leaning forward in the chair, sent him nearly sprawling onto the ground again. However, arms grabbed him and roughly sat him back in the chair.

A loud scraping buzzed against Jaskier’s hearing and he could feel himself distantly moving forwards again. The black spots were dancing in his vision again and Jaskier felt the blissful pull of unconsciousness.

Someone grabbed hold of his right hand tied it down to a wooden surface. Jaskier flexed his fingers, glancing up to see Chair stood behind a camera. It’s red blinking light looked as if it was taunting Jaskier. Still confused, Jaskier dropped his head back down. They’d tied his left hand back to the back of the chair and when had they done that. Jaskier belatedly realised Cahir was talking but the words weren’t registering. He was so tired. Everything hurt so much. He just wanted to go home. He just wanted Geralt to hold him and say everything was going to be ok.

A blinding white hot pain in the hand tied to the table had Jaskier scream. His hand trembled and he tried to pull it back to his body but he couldn’t move it. A second scream wrenched itself out of his throat as the pain returned a second time and then all went black.

…..

Ciri woke that morning to find Geralt asleep on a chair next to her bed. She didn’t wait for him to wake up before she jumped out of the bed and wrapped her arms around him. “You’re ok.” She whispered against the Witcher’s white hair and she was aware she was crying again. She hadn’t cried this much in years.

“Of course I am.” Geralt sounded a bit confused but Ciri didn’t care. 

“I thought they’d taken you as well.” Ciri whispered, tightening her hug on Geralt. She was well aware she was far to tall to be sitting in ger adoptive Father’s lap anymore but she didn’t care. “I keep seeing it.” She whispered and she felt Geralt’s arms tighten around her again. “Jaskier, being dragged back through the window.” His eyes had been blown wide with fear. “He told me to run.” She whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Her words were jumbling out faster than she could control. “I wanted to help him but…I was so scared.”

“Shhh, you’re ok Ciri. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise.” Geralt murmured, returning the full bodied hug Ciri was giving him. “You did the right thing.”

A few minutes passed in silence before Geralt gently pulled Ciri off him. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked into the oddly serious gaze of Geralt. “You’re going to stay with Vesemir for a little while.” Ciri went to protest, not understanding why she couldn’t stay here with Geralt but Geralt interrupted her. “I…I haven’t been completely honest with you. Or Jaskier….Shit.” Geralt placed a hand on his face and Ciri placed a hand over the one sitting on his lap, trying to offer him some comfort. “I will be. I swear to you. When all this is over I’ll explain everything to you.” Geralt’s amber gaze met Ciri’s own green eyes. “But right now, what I need you to do is be safe. I’ve called your college; told them you’ll be home-schooling for a while.” Ciri wanted to argue that she would be find in school, that she’d miss her friends but honestly she was too scared. Geralt never looked like this, defeated. Scared. It made Ciri as scared as she had been 7 years ago when she’d been told she would be living with a virtual stranger following her Grandmother’s death. “I need you to be safe and right now…right now with me isn’t safe. The people who took Jaskier, they wanted to get to me. Vesemir will keep an eye on you.”

“While you find Jask?” Ciri asked and Geralt nodded.

“Yes.” Geralt said but Ciri could see doubt in his eyes. Doubt and fear. It made her want to yell at him. Yell at him not to give up on Jaskier but she didn’t. It was obvious he was hurting and she didn’t want to make it worse.

“I’ll be fine. Promise.” Ciri didn’t want Geralt worrying about her while Jaskier was missing.

“I know.” Geralt murmured.

Ciri was surprised to find Yennefer had spent the night and even more surprised the other woman cooked them breakfast. Yennefer glared at Geralt until he swallowed down the toast and drunk the coffee Yennefer had made them. Afterwards, Ciri packed a bag and Yennefer drove the 15 minutes up to the main house where Vesemir was waiting. The older man engulfed her in a large hug and walked her to her room. There were twice as many people there as usual and Ciri wanted to ask why, what they were all doing. But she didn’t. Geralt needed her to be brave. He didn’t need to know how scared she was when she saw half of the men downstairs walking around with pistols in their pockets.

…..

Geralt was just about to grab his bike and head to the location Lambert had sent him where he (and surprisingly Triss) were interrogating the 3 men they’d caught last night when his phone buzzed with a video.

It was an unknown number, which made Geralt frown. Not thinking anything of it he almost dropped the phone to the floor when he saw Jaskie’s terrified face appear on the screen. His face was covered in blood and bruises, eyes downcast and what unbruised skin Geralt could see in the darkness of the video was a sickly pale white. Geralt ground his teeth in anger as he watched someone tie his hand to a wooden table. The video was oddly silent as Jaskier sat there for a little while, eyes drifting closed and opened in an unfocused confused look.

Geralt felt his heart clench painfully as Jaskier’s usually vibrant cornflower blue eyes looked into the camera. They were a stormy unfocused grey. So focused Geralt was with Jaskier’s face he collapsed bonelessly onto the chair sitting behind him when a heart-breaking scream filled his ears. He watched in dumbfounded horror as one of the thugs in the background (face covered in a ski mask) brought a sledge hammer down onto Jaskier right hand.


	7. Chapter 7

Triss tossed her messy brunette hair over her shoulder as she watched the Witcher’s tie up the three Nilfgaardian’s. “Didn’t expect to see you here Merigold.” Lambert grunted, leaning next to Triss at the back of the room.

“Heard they took Jaskier.” Triss replied and Lambert grunted in reply. She remembered the day Jaskier had walked into the Sorceresses’ Lodge asking if they were interesting in him singing once a night at the Lodge. He’d given off a self-assured aura even though he’d obviously been intimidated by the glares Yennefer sent him. Triss had decided she liked Jaskier there and then and Jaskier had been performing every week since at the Sorceresses’ Lodge (minus the few holidays he took). It hadn’t taken long for Triss to become good friends with Jaskier, his easy friendly outlook to the world a welcome change to the usual people Triss saw every day.

“You might not want to see what comes next.” Lambert replied, cracking his knuckles. Triss just rolled her eyes.

“Hold off on the barbaric methods. I’ve got a better idea.” Triss replied, pulling out a vial of clear liquid. Triss had majored in chemistry in college and spent a few days a week as a teach assistant in the chemistry department at that same college.

“What the fuck is that?” Lambert lifted an eyebrow, stepping back a little from Triss. He knew from experience not to piss of Triss that much.

“Water.” Triss replied, laughing a little. “But they don’t need to know that.” She winked at him before sauntering over to the 3 men tied to chairs. “Now watch and learn.”

……

“Talk to me Geralt.” Yennefer had driven straight back to Geralt’s house after dropping Ciri off that morning and had been extremely worried when she’d found the normally stoic Witcher sitting in his living room, hands covering his eyes and silently crying. She’d watched the video on his phone and understood in seconds.

“Just drive.” Geralt growled. It was the first thing he’d said in the last hour. Hell, the only reason he’d even moved was because Lambert had called to say they had a possible location on Jaskier.

“I am driving. And were still half an hour out, so talk.” Yennefer retorted, sending Geralt a sidelong glare.

“I’m fine.”

“Your obviously not fine.” Yennefer laughed before sobering slightly. “I don’t blame you. That…that video was messed up.” Yennefer shuddered, remembering the gut-wrenching scream that came from Jaskier.

“His hand Yenn, they broke his fucking hand.” Geralt growled.

“But he’s still alive.” Yennefer asserted. It wasn’t often she had to be the optimistic one in the group but she was the only one there. “The time stamp on that video said they filmed it 15 minutes before sending it to you. That means he was still alive hen you got it.”

Geralt just shook his ehad, eyes dropping to the floor. “That doesn’t mean anything and you know it Yenn.” And she did but she’d be damned if she was going to think of Jaskier already lying dead somewhere.

…..

By the time Yennefer pulled up outside the warehouse Lambert had told them to come to Geralt had managed to, mostly, pull his head back from re-playing that video over and over again. Pushing down all the emotions he was feeling (namely scared, so fucking scared), he got out of the car, not waiting for Yenn even as she swore at him to slow down.

He was a little surprised to see Triss standing next to Lambert, especially considering she was grinning like a mad woman. “This woman is fucking brilliant.” Lambert announced and Triss sent a proud smirk to Yenn who just rolled her eyes. “Those bastards were scared shitless and told her everything.”

“What did you do?” Yennefer asked.

“Threatened to make them drink hydraulic acid if they didn’t talk.” Triss replied, grin still in place. “They nearly shit themselves after they’d talked and I drank it down.” Yennefer gave a small chuckle. Triss may appear to the nicer of the two owners of the Sorceresses Lodge but she fucking scary when she wanted to be.

“What did they say?” Geralt growled and all three of them sobered up immediately.

“One of them was in the van that kidnapped Jaskier. Gave us an address for where they dropped him off.” Lambert handed Geralt the paper and the bigger man growled in thanks. “Called Eskel after you and he’s organising the lads to meet us there in an hour.”

……

Yennefer wouldn’t usually get involved in the Witcher’s gang fights. She was more than happy to provide them with information and beer from the comfort of her bar but right now her and Triss were sitting in her car waiting for the shit to begin. “This is insane.” Triss announced, finger tapping on the dashboard. “I mean what the fuck are they going to do.” Triss was a few years younger than Yennefer and, while more than capable of living in the Witcher’s world, she was a lot less involved than Yennefer could be at times.

“We don’t have to do anything, just sit here and let them know if anything’s going to go wrong.” Yennefer replied, nodding to the walkie talkie Eskel had so helpfully provided them.

“Right, that’s ok then.” Triss rambled on but Yennefer cut her off with a silent wave of her hand. Geralt was walking round the back of the building completely ignoring Eskel’s plan of attack.

“Shit, stay here.” Yennefer swore, opening the car door.

“Where are you going?” Triss asked, nervously playing with a bit of her wild hair.

“To make sure that idiot doesn’t do anything stupid.”

…..

Geralt wasn’t really all that surprised when he picked the lock to the back of the warehouse and felt Yenn’s hand on his shoulder before he got a chance to go in. “I’m not going back.” Geralt growled, pulling his gun from his pocket.

“You’re an idiot right. Eskel’s plan of attack would have worked.” Geralt just smiled ever so silent. Yennefer might think he was an idiot, and in fairness he probably was, but she wouldn’t stop him. “Got a spare one.” Geralt wordlessly passed his spare pistol over to the woman.

They were silent as they made their way through the darkly lit corridors. Faintly Geralt heard the sound of gunfire as the other Witcher’s engaged with the Nilfgaardian’s outside. Eskel had obviously realised what Geralt was going to do and decided to offer him a distraction, good.

Yennefer motioned down to a set of stairs leading to what was probably a cellar. “That’s were I’d keep a prisoner if I had one.” Yennefer replied and Geralt didn’t even want to consider why Yennefer had thought about that.

As they headed down the stairs, Geralt heard the sound of a voice. “The Witcher’s are here.” The voice was saying. To Geralt it sounded a bit unhinged. “Doesn’t matter now.” The unmistakeable sound of a pistol being loaded. Yennefer motioned for Geralt to head to the other side of the door. Both had their guns ready as Geralt went to open the door to the cellar. “You’ll be dead before they find you.”

……

Everything hurt so much. Jaskier was lying on the cold hard floor. He had no idea where the chair had gone but then it didn’t really matter, he supposed. He was curled on his side, body wrapped protectively around his throbbing hand. His breathing was hitched and a splatter of blood had appeared on the floor in front of him when he’d coughed last. Distantly he knew he was going to die. There was no way he could survive this.

The two thugs that had been in the room since this had started had left a little while ago, leaving him alone with Cahir. Jaskier had tried to get up and run when Cahir had untied him but his right knee had given out almost instantly, sending him sprawling to the floor ribs and hand aching in protest. Cahir had kicked him violently in the back as Jaskier curled into a protective ball.

Chair was saying something but Jaskier wasn’t listening, eyes closed against the pain and noise of the room. What did it really matter what the man was saying when it was obvious Jaskier wouldn’t be alive much longer to listen.

He’d seen the gun in Cahir’s hand and knew it was pointing at him. He tried to picture Geralt and Ciri in his mind but all that appeared was the frightened face of Ciri as Jaskier yelled at her to run. He didn’t even know if she’d even made it to safety. And Geralt. Geralt’s smiling face that morning when he’d kissed him goodbye. Geralt who he’d spent the last 6 years with, had built a life with. And it turned out he didn’t even know the man. The image Jaskier had of Geralt wasn’t real. The Geralt he knew wasn’t really the real Geralt.

If Jaskier had had the energy he might have laughed at how stupid he’d been. How he’d wasted his life.

“No!” A voice shouted and Jaskier dimly recognised it as Geralt’s before it was promptly followed by the loud piercing bang of 2 guns.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter got away from me a bit and ended up going in a completely different direction than I had originally planned but I hope you enjoy.

Geralt shouted in fury when he saw the man he knew to be named Cahir (leader of the Nilfgaardian’s) standing over Jaskier’ curled up form on the floor with a gun. He launched himself at the man just as Cahir’s gun went off.

A moment later a gun behind Geralt went off and Cahir crumpled to the floor. Geralt looked back in shock to find Yennefer standing calmly at the doorway (other than her wildly spinning violet eyes), gun smoking in hand. Blood was pooling around Cahir’s still form but Geralt ignored it, dropping to his knees next to Jaskier.

Blood was coating Jaskier’s side, pooling around his still form. “G’ralt?” Jaskier’s words were slurred as Geralt gently checked for a pulse on Jaskier’s neck. Geralt almost sobbed with relief, hearing Jaskier’s voice, even though it held none of its usual melodic timber.

“You’re ok, Jask.” Geralt distantly saw Yennefer pulling out her phone, rpboably to inform Eskel of what had happened but he didn’t care.

“Ciri?” Jaskier’s voice was fading and his eyes were closing and Geralt resisted the urge to shake Jaskier awake. He didn’t want to hurt him anymore.

“She’s safe.” Jaskier gave a hum of acknowledgement. The skin around Jaskier’s left eye was black and purple, eye itself puffy around the edges. There was blood dribbling down a split neck and he had a large gash on the side of his head. Dried blood crusted his face. His shirt was drenched in what Geralt presumed was sweat. “You’re going to be ok.” Geralt mummed but Jaskier didn’t reply. His eyes had drooped down and he’d gone very still again. Blood was soaking through Jaskier’s shirt and Geralt quickly put his hands over the wound, putting pressure against the bullet wound on Jaskier’s side.

“Pick him up, we need to get him to a hospital.” Yenn’s words dragged Geralt into action. As gently as he could, he lifted Jaskier into his arms. He was light in Geralt’s arms.

Yennefer led Geralt through the doors and into the ground floor corridors. The sound of feet running in their direction had Geralt tighten his hold on Jaskier’s still body but he relaxed when he saw Eskel and Lambert running over.

“Ambulance is on its way.” Eskel said, eyes not moving from Jaskier’s body. “Is he…”

“He’s fine.” Yennefer replied, probably a bit harsher than she meant to.

Eskel and Lambert both breathed a sigh in relief. “The Nilfgaard’s are all dead. 10 of them. None of ours are dead but 2 took bullet wounds. They’ll live though.” Geralt didn’t say a word as he led the way outside. Jaskier hadn’t made a move for the duration of the walk and it worried Geralt to no end. He needed a hospital and fast. He could hear sirens in the distant and silently wished for them to come faster.

5 minutes later an ambulance appeared and paramedics rushed over to them. Geralt nearly growled when they tied to take Jaskier from them but Yennefer’s comforting hand on his shoulder quieted him. Silently, Geralt placed Jaskier onto the offered stretcher and watched as the paramedics started an IV drip and placed an oxygen mask over his face. 

“What’s his name?” One of the paramedic’s asked.

“Jaskier.” Yennefer replied when it was apparent Geralt wasn’t going to say anything.

“Any allergies?” 

“Geralt?” Yennefer asked, not knowing the answer herself.

“No.” Geralt replied, eyes not leaving Jaskier’s face. His wavy brown hair was stuck to his face and it was unnerving to see the oxygen mask fogging up as Jaskier breathed.

The paramedics nodded, loading Jaskier into the back of the ambulance. Geralt hesitated for a second but Yennefer’s put a hand on his arm and said “We’ll handle this, go.” Before following them into the ambulance.

The ride to the hospital was terrifying. The paramedics kept saying words like low oxygen level, blood pressures to low. He’d lost too much blood. They’d had to cut away his clothing and Jaskier was no lying on the stretcher with just a hospital blanket covering him. Geralt had almost been sick when he’d seen the state of Jaskier’s right knee. The knee was swollen to nearly twice it’s side and the skin (which wasn’t covered in dried blood) was a horrific shade of blue and purple. Though that was nothing compared to Jaskier’s hand. The hand and lower wrist were swollen badly and the fingers were bent at horrific angles. The whole of Jaskier’s now pale revealed torso a nasty shade of purple. When the paramedics had lifted him to remove the clothes from underneath him, Geralt had seen a nasty bruise covering the majority of Jaskier’s back.

The paramedics said Jaskier was lucky. The bullet wound was just a graze. Superficial. But Geralt didn’t think Jaskier was lucky. Not with the number of injuries so obviously present on his body.

And the worst thing. The worst thing was Jaskier hadn’t moved at all. For a man usually so active and full of life it just felt wrong for Geralt to see Jaskier this still.

When they finally arrived at the hospital, Geralt tried to follow the paramedics wheeling Jaskier through A&E but a well-meaning nurse he’d been stopped in his tracks. They’d led him to a waiting area and left him there.

……

It took too long for the police to wrap up taking the Witcher’s statements. They were bloody lucky the people to answer the call were on the Witcher’s payroll but it still took time for them to get away. Most of the Witcher’s had scattered after the fighting was over. The ones that remained (Triss, Lambert, Eskel, Cohen and Yennefer) stuck to the same story.

They’d seen nothing. Heard nothing. They’d just been passing through when this happened. It was obvious that wasn’t the truth. Yennefer herself was covered in blood from where she’d touched Jaskier’s bloody wound and then wiped her hand down her shirt. But the cops didn’t say anything. They were paid a lot of money after all to not notice such things as this.

She kept a spare shirt in the back of her car so as soon as the cops had decided they were done she stripped out of the bloody shirt and changed. “You’re shaking.” Triss settled a hand over Yennefer’s own. “I’ll drive.” Yennefer just nodded. She’d done a lot of shit for the Witcher’s in her life but she’d never killed anyone.

But Cahir had had the gun pointed at Jaskier and Geralt wouldn’t have gotten to the man in time. Yenn had acted on pure instinct, pulling the trigger before she’d even thought about it. Did she regret it. No, the bastard deserved it if the state of Jaskier had been any indication. Bust still…it didn’t mean killing him hadn’t affected her.

“It’s ok to cry.” Triss said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’m not gonna say anything.” Yennefer looked at Triss and nodded in thanks, silent tears pouring down her cheeks.

By the time they got to the hospital she had herself back under control.

…..

Eskel drove his and Lambert’s car to the hospital. He’d called Vesemir in between talking with the cops to give him the news that Jaskier was safe. Coen had gone off to the other Witcher’s to pass the word that this had never happened. While they did have the cops in their pockets, it was always best to play ignorance and they didn’t need anyone running their mouths off.

“We should have kept him alive.” Lambert growled. “Beaten him the same way they hurt Jaskier.” Eskel growled in consent. Jaskier was their family as surely as Geralt and Ciri were and whoever hurt their family would always pay the price.

…….

Vesemir had shrugged off the security detail when he jumped in the car with Ciri on his way to the hospital. He knew they scared Ciri and the girl didn’t need anymore scaring. Anyway, if he wasn’t capable of protecting one little girl he didn’t have the right to call himself a Witcher. Even if he was probably a bit too old for it.

As soon as he’d had the call from Eskel he had told Ciri Jaskier was safe and the 16 year old had nearly bowled him over with the force of her hug. She’d demanded then and there to be taken to the hospital to see Jaskier and, well, Vesemir had never been able to say no to that girl. Not since the day Geralt had brought her back to Kaer Mohen. She had all of them wrapped around her little finger. One more so than Geralt.

Vesemir had known Geralt since he was 16 years old, an angry impulsive teenage that, the way he was heading, would end up in prison or dead before he hit 17. Vesemir had instilled a sense of discipline in the impulsive teenager, introduced him to Lambert (who he’d brought back to Kaer Mohen when he’d found the then 15 year old in the streets) and Eskel (who he’d found in a similar state to Geralt the year before when he’d been 18). He’d instilled in all 3 of them a sense of belonging. A sense of home and family. They were his sons and he was proud of them.

The Witcher’s had been Geralt’s idea, 4 years after he’d moved in with Vesemir. Vesemir’s 3 boys had been in Hyde park when they’d come across a group of drug dealers kicking the shit out of a drug user, demanding money and had decided to help. It took them another 3 years to decide create the Witcher’s. Vesemir will admit h was sceptical of how it would work at first. After all, what is boys were considering was illegal and not without dangers. But then, Vesemir wasn’t a fool. All 3 of his boys had grown up in Foster care and they hadn’t been treated well. Though the specifics none of them had ever discussed. They had wanted to try and help people, could see the gap in the system which let innocent people who had no one (like they themselves had been) get hurt, injured and killed. The Witcher’s stopped that and it gave his boys a purpose. And Vesemir was proud of that.

2 years after his boys had created the Witcher’s, Ciri ended up in Geralt’s life. Vesemir will admit he was very surprised when his middle son (and in fairness the son he worried about most) appeared at his door with a small 9 year blonde haired girl. He’d been terrified and had confessed that he was the only person Ciri had and that he wouldn’t let the girl grown up in the system. Looking back Vesemir thinks Geralt expected Vesemir to tell him he was being ridiculous but Vesemir hadn’t. He could see the small smile Geralt had on his lips while holding Ciri and knew this little girl could give Geralt the one thing Vesemir hadn’t been able to. Not for lack of trying mind. Unconditional love.

When Geralt had introduced Jaskier to Vesemir near a year and a half later, Vesemir had been a bit surprised. Not that his son had brought home a man but because Jaskier was the complete opposite of Geralt. Excitable, loud, optimistic. He’d had a guitar slung over his back and spent half the night sat in front of the fire with Ciri, signing her little songs he’d made up. Seeing the way Geralt smiled at the sight of Jaskier and Ciri laughing, singing and dancing that night, Vesemir had felt a warm glow in his chest. That was Geralt’s family. And Vesemir didn’t think he knew anyone who deserved that happiness more than Geralt.

They pulled up outside the hospital and Ciri didn’t even wait for Vesemir to finish parking the car before she jumped out of the car, bouncing up and down on her feet in impatience. The receptionist pointed them in the direction of the family waiting room and Vesemir looked around at a few other families, obviously waiting for news on their own loved ones, before his eyes came to rest on his own family.

Ciri ran straight to Yennefer and Geralt, sitting on the seat between the two. Geralt’s eyes were hagged but he still offered his daughter a smile and clasped her hand in his. Yennefer didn’t look much better but she did the same on Ciri’s other side. Triss came over and Vesemir enveloped his arms around the young woman. Her eyes were red he noted, she’d obviously been crying. Eskel was sitting in one of the chairs opposite Geralt, glaring daggers into the floor. Lambert was pacing the length of the waiting room, anger boiling off him.

As Vesemir took a seat next to Eskel and Triss, he found himself watching his family, thinking of their missing member. If Jaskier was here he would have hated the silence. He’d be rambling nervously, or maybe making up songs trying to cheer everyone up. But he wasn’t here and that was the source of the silence and worry etched into all their faces. They were an odd bunch, Vesemir’s family. But they were family. Vesemir’s family.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance if anything in this chapter (and future ones) is medically incorrect. I'm not a doctor and the internet can only tell me so much.

Doctor Priscilla was admittedly a bit nervous as she walked into the family waiting room. The people waiting for their missing member were intimidating and that was an understatement. “Family for Jaskier Pankratz?” She asked. All eyes turned to her and she felt a bit conscious of herself as they moved seemingly as one to crowd near her.

“Can we see him?” The youngest of the group was no less fierce than the rest of them. Her emerald green eyes glared daggers at her in a similar way the violet eyed woman was doing. Distantly, Priscilla wondered if the violet eyes woman was the green eyed teenagers daughter. They certainly had identical glares.

“Please sit.” She motioned back to the seats they had gotten from. An older man with greying hair and wrinkles around his eyes gave the Doctor an encouraging smile (he probably realised how intimidating they all looked) but it did nothing to suppress the nervousness in Priscilla when two the final 3 men remained standing.

“Oh for goodness sakes, you three stop lurking and let the woman speak.” The final woman with messy brown hair sent the 3 men a warning look and they sat down. Priscilla sent her a grateful look before opening her notes.

“Mr Pancratz suffered multiple broken and bruised ribs. His lung was punctured and he’s had surgery to repair the damage. The injury to his head also suggest concussion but we hadn’t seen any evidence of swelling so that’s good news. We’ve repaired the bullet wound to his side. He was very lucky as the bullet passed clean threw his side and didn’t hit any major organs. We’ve given him a few pints of blood to replenish what he’s lost.” Now came the difficult part, Priscilla thought, “His right knee has been shattered and we’ve completed emergency surgery to repair the damage but he may require additional surgery if it doesn’t heal the way we’d like. Likewise, his right hand has been badly damaged. Most of the bones from the wrist downwards have been broken and the nerve endings have also been damaged quite badly.”

“Will he be able to play his guitar again?” The teenager’s voice broke Priscilla’s listing. 

“Honestly, I don’t know.” She could see the disappointment and anger in the family’s faces but Priscilla was never one to give false hope. “He might regain some or even full usage given time and physiotherapy but it will be down to Mr Pankratz.” 

“He’s ok then?” The same girl asked and the violet eyed woman muttered “Ciri, let the doctor talk.” But Priscilla just smiled.

“He’ll recover yes.” Priscilla continued. “His injuries were severe but given time and a lot of patience, he will.”

“When can we see him.” The girl, Ciri demanded and the white haired man (obviously Ciri’s Father if the way the teenage clung to his side was any indication) sitting next to him pinned Priscilla with a hopeful gaze which seemed so out of place on such an intimidating man. 

“2 at a time. And only for a few minutes.” Pricilla nodded. Without hesitation, the white haired man and Ciri got to their feet, following Priscilla down the hallway. Priscilla stopped outside the room in the intensive care unit, turning back to the two people in front of her. “It may be a bit scary. His lung was punctured so we have him on a ventilator to help him breath.”

“Is he awake?” Ciri demanded, pushing down her fear with obvious evidence. The white haired man gave the teenage a squeeze of the hand in comfort.

“No. The anaesthesia should wear off in a few hours.” Priscilla nodded, opening the door for them. “Any issues, just ring that bell there and one of the nurses will be with you.” She nodded to the call button above Jaskier’s head and left the Father and daughter to it.

…..

Ciri let out an audible gasp as she walked into the hospital room but she didn’t slow in her movements towards Jaskier’s bedside. She took a seat next to the unconscious singer, taking hold of his limp uninjured hand in her own.

“Your ok now, Jask. Your safe.” She said softly, gently stroking Jaskier’s messy brown hair, careful to avoid the bruising and stitched up flesh, in a mimicry of how Yennefer, Geralt and Jaskier stroked her hair whenever she was upset or ill.

Geralt just stood frozen at the door. Jaskier looked so impossibly small in the clinically white bedding. The ventilator in his throat was terrifying, coupled with the wires and monitors that beeped at regular intervals Geralt might have thought Jaskier was on his death bed if he hadn’t known any better. His right hand and wrist were tightly bandaged in a white that as still somehow darker than the ghastly colour of Jaskier’s skin. What was different colours of healing bruises was sickly white. He looked dead, Geralt thought fleetingly but then he shook it off. Jaskier wasn’t dead. He was alive and he was going to be fine. He was going to be fine.

He took a seat opposite Ciri, ignoring the broken hand on Jaskier’s right hand side as Ciri continued to murmur soft words to Jaskier’s still form.

The nurses had cleaned up the blood and Geralt was suddenly reminded of the blood that had been on his own hands a little while earlier, before Yennefer had dragged into a bathroom and forced him to wash and change into one of Lambert’s spare shirts. Jaskier’s blood had been a frightening shade of scarlet. With a jump that had Ciri start, Geralt walked out of the hospital room.

……

Vesemir found him in the bathroom, hands resting on the wall as he let his head drip forward, tears spilling down his cheeks, whole body shaking. Vesemir didn’t say a word as he placed a gently hand on Geralt’s back. “This is my fault.” Geralt murmured, not lifting his head from where it looking at the tiled bathroom floor. “He was hurt because of me. Because of what I do. And he doesn’t even know why.”

Vesemir said nothing, rubbing gentle circles across Geralt’s back. Geralt was always so in control of his emotions, emotionless most people called him. He never let anyone see what was going inside his mind but ever since Jaskier had been threatened he’d been spiralling. They could all see it. It was why Vesemir hadn’t told Geralt about Jaskier and Ciri being targeted straight away. He’d needed Geralt to be clear headed for 5 minutes, knowing the minute he thought his family was in danger Geralt would lost all control. As evidence of him ignoring Eskel and barging into the Nilfgaard’s building without back-up. Vesemir was silently thankful for Yennefer, dreading to think what might have happened had she not been there for Geralt.

“He’ll never trust me again.” Geralt continued. “He’ll hate me and he’ll have every right to. And his hand. Fuck. If his hand doesn’t heal then he’ll never be able to play again.”

“Of what I understand of Jaskier he isn’t one to give up easily.” Vesemir’s voice was soft. “I won’t deny, once he’s recovered from this he will be mad that you lied to him.” Vesemir was never one to lie to his sons and while he knew it was hard for Geralt to hear, he had to say it. “But Jaskier will not leave you. He will not hate you. That boy doesn’t have a hateful bone in hi whole body.” Vesemir smiled slightly, Jaskier had fallen for Geralt’s family instantly. Just because they were Geralt’s family. “It’s going to be difficult. For all of you.” Vesemir could still see the scared look in Ciri’s eyes when she’d come to stay with him. “But you need to be there for Jaskier. He’s going to need you.”

Geralt said nothing and Vesemir gave Geralt one last pat on the back before exiting the bathroom. 5 minutes Geralt walked back out, gave Vesemir a silent nod and walked back to Jaskier’s hospital room.

…..

Geralt had tried to convince Ciri to go with the others to a nearby hotel for some sleep (none of them wanting to be too far away in case Jaskier needed them) but the girl had flat refused to leave Jaskier’s side. They’d all had their turn visiting but Ciri had been the only one of them to stay by Jaskier’s bedside since they’d been allowed to see them.

Triss had brought a book in with her during her visit, handing it to Ciri to keep her occupied. It was Pride and Prejudice, one of Jaskier’s favourite books. So Ciri had taken to reading it aloud to the still unconscious man. The nurse who had come in a little while ago to check Jaskier’s vitals had smiled encouragingly and said Jaskier might be able to head Ciri reading. That had pleased the blonde haired girl who had squeezed Jaskier’s hand.

She paused in her readings and looked up to see Geralt loitering in the doorway. He didn’t say a word as he sat down on the other side of Jaskier. They sat in silence for a little while before Ciri continued to read. She didn’t say anything at the redness in Geralt’s eyes as he gently stroked Jaskier’s hair in mimicry of what Ciri had been doing when she first came in.

…..

Jaskier was distantly aware of a bleeping and voices. He felt a bit like he was floating, completely separate from everything around him. Something warm was gently stroking his hair and Jaskier felt himself melting a little to the touch. Another voice joined the first softer tone but Jaskier couldn’t really make out what they were saying. Everything was far to fuzzy. He thinks he felt someone squeeze his hand so he tries to squeeze back but honestly he has no idea how successful he was.

“Wake up.” Was that Geralt’s voice, Jaskier wondered. He couldn’t understand why Geralt would want him to wake up when he was saw content floating in the blissful darkness.

“Jask.” Was that Ciri. That was strange, Jaskier wondered. What was Ciri doing in his and Geralt’s bedroom. Had he forgotten something important. Did Ciri need him for something?

It took far too much effort that it should have for Jaskier to open his eyes and when he did he immediately wished he hadn’t. The blinding fluorescent lights made his head ache. He tried to lift his hands but his left was enclosed in Ciri’s and his right wasn’t responding to his brains commands.

Blinking slowly, Jaskier opened his eyes to find Geralt’s body standing over the bed, shielding Jaskier’s sensitive eyes to the blinding light. Jaskier tried to say thank you when he became aware of a increasing pressure in his throat. Fuck, he couldn’t breath.

…..

Geralt smiled softly as he saw Jaskier’s blue bleary eyes open and recognition flood him. He was about to say something when suddenly blinding panic rushed into Jaskier’s eyes and the hand Ciri was holding was suddenly clawing at the ventilator down Jaskier’s throat.

Geralt cursed silently, pushed the call button and went to Ciri’s side of the bed and took Jaskier’s hand in his own. Ciri had jumped out of the way at the sight of panic in Jaskier’s eyes, panic now clear in her own. Geralt wanted to comfort her but he could only look after one at a time and as loath as he was to abandon Ciri for the moment, Jaskier needed it more. “It’s ok Jask, you’re ok.”

Jaskier’s panicked blue eyes met Geralt’s and it was like he was looking at the panic in Jaskier’s eyes in the video Nilfgaard had sent him. Machines were bleeping and it small choking noises where coming from Jaskier as his throat rebelled against the tube down it. “Jaskier, it’s ok. You’re ok. Just let it breathe for you.” Geralt placed Jaskier’s hand to his own chest, exaggerating his own breathing and trying to keep it even. “Concentrate on this Jask, just calm down.” A nurse had come close with a syringe full of what Geralt presumed was something to knock Jaskier back to unconsciousness. He shook his head and she nodded, backing away from the IV.

Jaskier’s breathing had started to slow down again but the panic was still evident in his eyes. “Do you want the tube out?” Geralt asked, trying to keep his own voice even so Jaskier couldn’t hear his own panic in it. Jaskier tried to nod is head but he couldn’t, which seemed to panic him even more until Geralt shushed him quietly. Distantly he was aware Ciri had disappeared and he felt guilty about not going after to her but he couldn’t. Not while Jaskier was clinging onto his hand with what would have been dear life if he’d had the strength to manage more than a light grip on Geralt’s fingers. Geralt imagined if he let go of Jaskier’s hand it would drop back to the mattress.

“Can you take it out?” Geralt asked and he could see the nurse about to shake her head when the Doctor from before walked in. Geralt thinks her name might have been Priscilla but honestly, he couldn’t remember.

“You’re awake then.” Priscilla smiled beaming at Jaskier who just blinked panickily up at Geralt. “We’ll get this tube out for you in a minute. Your stats look good so you shouldn’t need it for now.” She said something to the nurse who ran off to do something. When the nurse came back, Priscilla turned to Geralt. “It’s a bit distressing to take the tube out so it might be better if you wait outside.”

Jaskier’s limp hand in Geralt’s own seemed to grow tighter and Geralt could see him silently begging the Wither to stay. Swallowing down his own panic Geralt said, “No, I’ll stay.” And Priscilla just nodded.

The Doctor asked Geralt to move from the side of the bed and Geralt offered Jaskier encouraging words when the singer’s eyes followed his movements. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Geralt sad in what he hoped was a comforting tone.

The nurse gently took hold of Jaskier’s shoulders, lifting him up slightly as the Doctor started to remove the ventilator. “Cough if you need to.” She said and as the ventilator tube moved upwards Jaskier choked on his coughs. 

The nurse pulled a bowl in front of Jaskier as he vomited up bile, tears running down his face as Geralt watched. Slowly, the nurse and Doctor both helped Jaskier to lie back onto the bed. The nurse placed an oxygen mask over Jaskier’s face and motioned for Geralt to return to his previous place at Jaskier’s side.

“Are you in any pain, dear?” The nurse asked and Jaskier’s bleary eyes tracked the nurses movements before giving a small nod. She nodded, pulling a syringe and injecting it into Jaskier’s IV. Geralt was glad to see the panic had disappeared from Jaskier’s face. “Just morphine dear. It’ll take a few minutes and then you’ll probably be out like a light.”

Geralt murmured a small thank you as she took her leave and then turned back to Jaskier. A dopy smile had spread across Jaskier’s face and he was blinking doe eyed up at Geralt. Within a few minutes he’d closed them and dropped back into darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter chapter but I didn't want to take away from this little scene so decided to split the second half into a separate chapter. Hope you all enjoy and as always thank you for reading :)

Ciri saw Jaskier choking on the tube and she panicked. She’s not proud of it but she saw the panic in Jaskier’s eyes and she ran. A few people turned to watch as she ran out of ICU as quickly as her legs could carry her. Distantly she realised how unfair she was being on Geralt. She couldn’t expect him to leave Jaskier like that but the man would obviously be full of guilt for not following her, but right then Ciri was too scared to say.

She ended up collapsing on the grass outside of the hospital, knees resting on the wet grass as tears ran down her face. It was dark outside and Ciri hadn’t realised how late it had gotten. A sob tore through her and Ciri hated herself for it. She’d tried to be strong, to be there for Jaskier and Geralt both but she couldn’t…She couldn’t bare to see someone she loved, her family, in pain.

A little while later, Ciri didn’t know how long, a hand appeared on her shoulder. Silently, Geralt sat down on the grass next to her, keeping a grounding grip on her shoulder. “Jaskier?” She asked quietly, letting her blonde hair hide her face.

“He’s ok. Sleeping now.” Geralt replied, gently squeezing her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have run.” Geralt hummed and remained silent for a few minutes before answering.

“You have nothing to apologise for. It’s scary, and heart-breaking seeing him like that.” Geralt paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. “It’s…fuck.” Geralt growled. “Jaskier’s so much better at this than me.”

“You and Yenn.” Ciri joked earning a laugh from Geralt. It was good to hear him laugh. He hadn’t laughed or even smiled in the last 3 days, and was that really only how long it had been. 

“Yeah. He’s good with words. Always knows what to say.” Geralt finished.

“You know what he’d say if he was awake right now?” Ciri asked, finally lifting her eyes to meet Geralt’s. Geralt shook his head and she almost rolled her eyes. “Stop being such emotionally constipated idiots.” Geralt laughed long and loud at that. Yes, that is something Jaskier would say. Hell, if Geralt was correct he’d once said this to he and Yen, much to his determinate as Yennefer had chased Jaskier out of her bar with a wooden broom at the insult.

“Why did this happen?” Ciri asked after a few moments of silence.

Geralt hesitated for a moment, wondering what to tell her but then he realised he should just tell her the truth. She deserved that much. “I don’t work for a property company.” Ciri remained silent but Geralt could see the worry in her eyes. “Myself and your Uncle’s, Eskel and Lambert run a London gang named the Witcher’s.”

“I’ve heard of them.” Ciri suddenly blurted and Geralt shot her such a surprised look that Ciri laughed a little. “Dara says they’re heroes. They saved his Dad from being shot by a thief with a gun.” Ciri replied. “Was that you?”

Geralt paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He’d expected a lot of things but to be called a hero by his daughter hadn’t even crossed his mind. “No that wasn’t me.” Ciri pouted a little but Geralt continued. “But we do try to help people. Keep drugs off the street.”

“So you are heroes.” Ciri seemed pleased with that and Geralt felt a small smile tug at his lips before he realised what his so called heroics had done to Jaskier.

“No, I couldn’t call us that.” Geralt sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was crush his daughters view of him but he couldn’t lie to her anymore. “We’re dangerous. I’ve…Ive hurt people…Killed people.”

“Bad people?” Ciri asked straight away and Geralt frowned.

“I suppose…yes they were bad people.” Everyone Geralt had killed had done far worse things to other people than just killing them. “But what we do isn’t lawful. What we do is dangerous.” Geralt sighed, a vision of Jaskier’s still bleeding form on the floor of some dingy warehouse building crossing his mind. “The people that did this to Jaskier, they did it because of me. They would have done the same to you if you hadn’t run.” Ciri flinched and Geralt hesitated a minute before remembering Ciri wasn’t a child anymore. No matter what he and Yenn might wish she was 16. And she deserved the truth. “They were a rival gang and were bringing in drugs to the city. We tried to disrupt their operations but it just made them angry.” Geralt sighed, forehead resting on his hands. “They went after you and Jask to get back at us. Because you were innocent and because they knew it would hurt.”

“They were monsters.” Ciri whispered, voice taking an oddly serious tone. “You killed them?” 

“Yes.” Geralt said, heart breaking all over again. His daughter would never see him as a hero again. She would probably hate him forever.

But Ciri, always one for surprises, surprised Geralt once more as she pulled him into a hug. “You kill monsters. You are heroes. You’re my hero.”


	11. Chapter 11

The next time Jaskier woke up it was a lot less dramatic than the first time. One minute Geralt was flicking through a magazine he’d picked up in the hospital shop and when he looked at the bed cornflower blue eyes were blinking up at him. Yennefer had come to pick up Ciri a few hours ago, they’d finally managed to convince the girl to go and get some sleep and a shower.

Honestly, Geralt was still a bit in shock at Ciri’s reaction to what he did and from Yennefer’s face when he told her what Ciri had said she was also surprised.

“Hey.” Geralt whispered. The nurses had replaced Jaskier’s oxygen mask with a nose cannula an hour ago so Jaskier was free to talk a fact the man demonstrated when he tried to croak out something. Unfortunatley, his throat was too raw and scratchy for words so Geralt hushed him with a gently hand. “The nurse said ice chips would help.” Jaskier smiled quietly as Geralt placed a spoonful in Jaskier’s mouth.

“Better.” Jaskier croaked and sent Geralt a small smile of thanks. “Where am I?

“A hospital. You were injured.” Geralt replied as son as Jaskier started. Jaskier’s face scrunched in confusion and Geralt tried not to let the panic show. The Doctor had warned them that short term memory loss might be a symptom of the combined head injury and pain killers. Chances were Jaskier would remember what happened eventually. A fact Geralt wished suddenly would never happen. He didn’t want to happy content looking man in front of him to disappear in the fear which would obviously come when Jaskier remembered what had happened.

Jaskier’s eyes started to drift close again and Geralt stifled a small chuckle, making Jaskier’s glazed blue eyes glare at him. “They’ve got you on some strong painkillers. Get some rest little lark, I’ll be here when you wake up again.” Jaskier beamed at the pet name before his eyes once more closed and he drifted back to sleep.

…….

Pain. Excruciating pain. His knee gave out under his weight as he tried to run. His head bounced off the steps and he tasted blood in his mouth as pain ratcheted up his body. His hand was on fire, pain twitching through his veins making Jaskier scream in agony. Someone was hitting him repeatedly in his stomach. His ribs ached fiercely, constricted his breathing to harsh gasps. He couldn’t breath. Fuck, he couldn’t breath. “Jaskier. Jaskier, wake up.”

Jaskier’s eyes flew with a start and he gasped a breath as his whole body ached in pain. It took him a few moments to register the hand on his shoulder and when he did he struggled away from the touch. The touch withdrew straight away. “Jaskier, you’re safe. You’re in a hospital.” 

Jaskier blinked in confusion. That was Geralt’s voice, why was Geralt here. Blinking around, he took in the stark white surroundings. The dark dingy room he’d been kept in was no where in sight. “Geralt?” Jaskier winced at the raspiness in his voice.

“You’re ok, Jask. You’re safe.” Geralt’s low timbered voice eased the ache in Jaskier’s heart. He turned his head, which was a lot harder than it should have been. Geralt sent Jaskier a small smile but Jaskier just frowned. The usually stoic face of Geralt was scrunched in a worried frown. He had more stubble than he normally did and his eyes were ringed black. He looked rough as hell. Jaskier lifted his left hand to gently touch Geralt’s cheek. The man let out a low hum.

“Where…”

“Hospital, Jask.” Geralt replied and something in his tone said this wasn’t the first time he’d said it.

“How…How long.” Jaskier had to pause for a moment as a cough racked through his body and then he cried in pain as white hot agony ran up his sides.

“Hear, drink this.” Geralt led a straw to Jaskier’s lips and the singer was surprised at the effort it took to take even a small sip. “You’ve been in the hospital for 3 days.” Geralt replied and Jaskier blinked in confusion. 3 days.

A sudden image of hm yelling for Ciri to run while he was pulled back through the window in his studio had Jaskier’s breathing coming shallow and panicky again. Geralt gently stroked Jaskier’s head and whispered to him that he was safe while Jaskier tried to get himself under control. When he felt like he could talk without breaking down completely he asked, “Ciri?”

“I’m right here, Jask.” The girl announced, running into the room and appearing at the side of Jaskier’s bed. Jaskier sighed a small sigh of relief which had him coughing once more. He choked in pain as burning sensations. A nurse appeared in the room and Jaskier felt arms lift him into a sitting position. He muffled a groan as he tried to stifle the coughing fit running through him.

“Keep this here, it will help.” The nurse said, placing a cushion against Jaskier’s aching ribs. Jaskier nodded his thanks. As he finished he felt his breathing wheezing and he suddenly felt very dizzy and lightheaded. The nurse and Geralt helped him to lie back down and Jaskier saw the nurse adjusting something in the corner of his vision.

“What’s wrong?” Ciri asked, eyes wide in panic.

“Nothing to worry about.” The nurse replied cheerfully. “He needs to cough to stop his lungs filling with fluid.” The nurse turned to him and said, seriously, “Don’t try to stifle it, if your lungs fill with fluid you’ll get pneumonia and in your condition you can’t afford that.” Geralt’s hand seemed to be getting tighter and Jaskier tried to squeeze his hand in encouragement but honestly he didn’t have the energy to do it. The coughing fit had taken everything out of Jaskier. “Can you wait a little while for your pain killers, the Doctor wanted to talk to you when you woke up.” Jaskier nodded, not trusting his voice to not break if he spoke.

Ciri sat on Jaskier’s right hand side, gently running her hands through Jaskier’s hair. “You’re ok now Jask.” Jaskier didn’t understand why they kept telling him that.

“Course I am.” He tried for a joyful tone but he flinched at the croaky and breathless quality of his voice. Geralt pushed the straw to his lips again and Jaskier took a full drink, letting out a shaky breath when Gerlat took it away.

“You’ve been in and out of consciousness for days.” Ciri continued, her emerald eyes oddly serious. “We were o worried.”

“I’m sorry…” Jaskier croaked, trailing off when he couldn’t think of the words to say.

“Nonsense.” The girl rolled her eyes in the same way Jaskier imagined Yennefer would have. “That’s not your fault. You’re lucky you know.” Jaskier lifted an eyebrow, to tired to try to voice his question. “The nurses wanted to put you in a general ward when they let you out of ICU but Geralt made them give you your own room.”

“Oh.” Jaskier said quietly, turning his head to look at Geralt. The man was silent, eyes downcast. “I was in ICU?” Jaskier asked. The memories of the last week were very confusing. The last clear thought he had was driving to his studio with Ciri but other than that. It was like looking at a video where someone had covered the clense with clingfilm. It just wasn’t clear.

“Yes, the Doctors said you punctured your lung. It’s why you have to wear that ridiculous nose cannula.” Ciri said matter of factly, and Jaskier frowned. “You were on a ventilator and it was really scary.” Ciri’s voice hitched for a moment before continuing. “But the Doctor’s said you didn’t need it anymore.” Jaskier hummed again. The pain was coming from his leg and hand and Jaskier tried to shift into a better position but found he couldn’t.

“Do you need to move?” Geralt asked, concern clear in his voice.

“I…Could I sit up. Please.” Jaskier croaked. Just that sentence left him breathless and chasing black spots in his vision. 

“One minute.” Geralt replied, disappearing from the room for a second.

Jaskier went to ask where he was going but Ciri continued speaking before he even registered Geralt’s leaving. “You’ll be ok now though. The Doctor’s said it might take a little while for you to get back to your old self but they said you’d manage it. Your young and healthy after all.” Ciri said with all the knowledge of a 16 year old. Jaskier hummed again. To be honest, all the information was a bit dizzying but the talking was obviously helping Ciri.

Geralt returned with a youngish woman in tow. “Hello, Jaskier. My name’s Doctor Priscilla, I’ve been looking after you during your stay. Geralt here says you wanted to sit up.” Jaskier nodded, or tried to at least. “Now, this might be a bit disorientating.” She said, pressing a button on the side of the bed and Jaskier felt his world black out for a moment.

When he came back to, Ciri was holding onto his left hand in a death grip and Geralt had a cardboard bowl under Jaskier’s chin. “I’m…fine.” Jaskier panted, closing his eyes to wave off the bout of nausea that had suddenly overcome him. Geralt hummed but didn’t remove the cardboard bowl until Jaskier’s breathing evened out.

“Now, I just need to do a few examinations.” Doctor Priscilla started.

“I’ll wait outside.” Ciri suddenly announced. “Yennefer, Triss and Vesemir were in the canteen getting some lunch and they’ll want to know your awaked.” Jaskier frowned, not understanding why they were in the hospital and waiting on word on him. Ciri hesitated for a moment before kissing Jaskier’s temple and saying bye before running outside.

Jaskier collapsed onto the pillow’s again and if Geralt didn’t know any better he’d have said Jaskier had gone back to sleep but the pained expression on his bruised face convinced Geralt he was still awake. “Right shall we.” The Doctor said brightly. “Geralt you can help.”

It was obvious Jaskier was confused as the doctor untied the hospital gown at the side. His gaze kept running around the room as if he didn’t quite understand what was happening and Geralt supposed if he’d just woken up to be poked and prodded he’d feel a bit disorientated as well.

Jaskier let out a low hiss of pain as the Doctor critically looked at the large black bruising covering Jaskier’s whole torso. Geralt squeezed his hand in encouragement. When she went to the bullet wound on Jaskier’s left side, Jaskier almost whited out from the pain. Geralt placed the bowl back under Jaskier’s chin waiting until Jaskier nodded to say the nausea feeling had passed. “All looks to be healing nicely.” The Doctor stated before moving to Jaskier’s right leg.

She lifted the cover to reveal the bandaged knee to the air. Jaskier closed his eyes trying to bate away the agony as she poked and prodded. Geralt kept tight hold of his hand, grounding him a little and Jaskier was eternally grateful.

The Doctor nodded to herself before turning to Jaskier’s right hand. Jaskier couldn’t contain the gasp of pain as the Doctor poked and prodded this limb. He moaned in obvious pain to the point that Geralt turned around and said, “Are you almost finished?”

“Just last a few questions.” The Doctor continued, pulling out a light which she proceeded to shine in Jaksier’s eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Julian Alfred Pankratz”. Jaskier gasped out, blinking rapidly as the Doctor turned the light off.

“Where are you?”

“Hospital.”

“Any idea on the date?”

“Not a fucking clue.” The Doctor laughed at that giving Jaskier a small smile as she stood up.

“Good to see your sense of humour’s still intact.” She replied, face going serious once more. “What are you aware of your injuries.” 

Jaskier considered what Ciri had told him for a few moments before replying. “Broken ribs, Ciri…Ciri said I had a punctured lung.” Geralt squeezed his hand again and Jaskier barely registered it. The pain was racking up again and his breathing was shallow even in his own ears.

The Doctor nodded before continuing, “You were also shot. Twice.” Jaskier blinked for a moment, not really comprehending what she’d just said. “The one on your sides healing up nicely. A through and through. It’ll leave a nasty scar but will heal up nicely enough. The one in you knee is another matter.” A flash of pain and an image of falling down a flight of stairs as his knee gave out had Jaskier blinking for a second. The Doctor took it in her stride, waiting for Jaskier’s eyes to refocus on the room. When they did, his eyes were instantly drawn to the worried look on Geralt’s face. “The surgeons managed to reconstruct the kneecap with pins and wire. You’ll have to keep off it for a little while but we’ll start you on some physio therapy as soon as your able.”

Jaskier nodded, brain not really processing what she talking about. “Your hand is another matter however.” This got Jaskier’s attention, mind drawing to the memory of blinding pain travelling up his right arm. “Most of the bones in your wrist, hand and fingers on the right side have been shattered. The surgeosn did their best to repair the damage but there was considerable nerve damage.” Jaskier felt light headed all over again as panic ran through him.

“But I’ll still be able to use it?” Jaskier asked, aware his breathing was hitching a little. He needed his hands, that was how he made his living. How was he supposed to play his guitar if he couldn’t use his hands.

“We’re hoping with physio therapy you should regain most of the mobility in the hand but we won’t know how much or how little until you start.”

“Breathe Jask, breath.” Geralt hummed and Jaskier tried, he really did. But it was too much. All the pain, all the information. He was aware he was having a panic attack, he’d had a few in his youth to know what they felt like. The constricting tightness in his chest. The fact he couldn’t breathe properly. “Jask, follow my breathing.” Geralt’s low voice reached Jaskier through the fog in his mind and he tried to even his breathing. Geralt placed Jaskier’s hand on his own chest and exaggerated his breathing so Jaskier could follow it. Slowly, the room came back into focus and Jaskier was breathing better, albeit still not properly.

“I’d like to put you back on an oxygen mask for a little while.” The Doctor stated when it was obvious Jaskier was back with them. Geralt snt her a panicked look, thinking Jaskier was getting worse but she just sent him a re-assuring smile. “Nothing unusual with your sort of injuries. Sometimes the nose cannula doesn’t provide enough supplementary oxygen while your recovering so we put you back on the oxygen mask. You should need to go back on the ventilator but we’ll monitor you and if you do then we’ll re-evaluate.”

Jaskier just nodded. He watched as the Doctor disappeared from view and a nurse came in. She took the nose cannula away and placed a plastic mask across his face. It itched his skin but Jaskier felt his limbs getting very heavy and he couldn’t bring himself to move it. Distantly, he heard the nurse telling Geralt she’d given him some more morphine but Jaskier didn’t really pay attention. The blissful darkness was calling again and he fell into it willingly.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little more light hearted than the previous ones so I hope you all enjoy.

“You look like shit.” Yennefer stated as she looked at Jaskier sitting up in the hospital room.

“Yeah, well...your jokes are old.” Yennefer narrowed her violet eyes into a glare but Jaskier didn’t even look up at her.

“And that was a pathetic comeback.” Again Jaskier said nothing, eyes glued to the preteen white hospital sheet. “Something interesting there I’m missing.” Still nothing. Yennefer glared in frustration. She wasn’t used to being ignored. In fact, with Jaskier, she was used to the exact opposite. “We just going to sit in silence.”

This got a response. Albeit, the response was a vague shrug but still, Yennefer wasn’t one to give up easily. “Ciri managed to get Geralt to go home and have a shower. Frankly if she hadn’t managed it soon I might have thrown a bucket of water over him.”

Jaskier’s lips twitched into a half smile and Yennefer felt herself emboldened. “How do you sleep with that man again? I mean, I know I dated him for a while but still he never smells clean.”

That got Jaskier to raise his head at last, a snort of laughter passing over him. Yennefer smiled smugly, crossing her knee over leg as she settled into the hard plastic chair. Jaskier really did look like shit, the bruising over his eye was turning a ugly yello/greenish colour and his split lip had swelled a little. Contrasted with the paleness of his skin he looked like he’d gone two rounds with a raging bull and lost. Badly. Come to think of it, that is what happened, except the raging bull had been some asshole. Person instead.

“You know I never thought I’d miss your sarcastic comments.” Yennefer continued.

“You should be used to people being stricken speechless by your sheer imposing bitchiness.” The smirk on Yennefer’s lips grew wider at the snarky comment and smirk that shone in Jaskier’s eyes.

“Finally, he speaks.” Yennefer rolled her eyes.

Jaskier laughed a little then. Yennefer didn’t fail to notice the slight wince of pain that crossed his features nor the croaky quality to his voice but she didn’t say a word.

“Ciri finally got Geralt to get some sleep.” Jaskier responded.

“So you were listening.” Yennefer replied before continuing.

“I’d ask how she managed that but she spends every other week with you so I suppose that answer’s that question.” Yennefer laughed loudly then, ignoring the worry that clenched her chest when Jaskier had to pause half way through to take in a ragged breath.

“Ciri said the nurses were making you wear a nose accessory but I see it’s missing. Afraid I might make fun of it.” Jaskier tried to pull a shocked face but the split lip rather ruined the affect.

“Alas it wasn’t my style.” Jaskier replied. His right hand twitched as if Jaskier wanted to move it but then realised he actually couldn’t, as damaged as it was. Yennefer felt another wave of worry fall through her at the usual active musician being forced to stay still. But still she squashed it down. “Anyhow, you love my style.”

Yennefer allowed that with a small quirk of her eyebrows. “Triss made me bring these.” Yennefer stated, pulling out a box full of cupcakes from the dessert shop a few doors down from the Sorceresses’ Lodge. Yennefer would in no way admit that this had been her idea because she knew Jaskier liked their cakes because he bought one every time he came to the bar to perform. No, Triss was getting thrown under the bus for that because there was no way in hell Yennefer would admit to caring about someone other than herself. And Ciri.

“She didn’t have to.” Jaskier mumbled as Yennefer placed the cupcake box on the side. “Do you want one?” Yennefer considered the bright rainbow coloured swirls for a moment before shrugging.

“Tell anyone and I will kill you.” She said seriously, taking a bright yellow one out and offering the box to Jaskier. His movements were awkward as he took a glittery pink cupcake out of the box with his left hand. 

“We can’t have your reputation for being the most terrifying person I have ever met in my entire life go to dust now can we.” Jaskier laughed. Yennefer said nothing as the cupcake almost fell onto Jaskier’s lap as he awkwardly tried to place it onto the tray attached to his hospital bed. Nor did she say anything about the way his hand trembled minutely.

They sat in silence for a moment before Jaskier suddenly burst out laughing and if someone could murder another living person with a glare it would be Yennefer. “I’m sorry, Yenn, but you look so bloody adorable with that frosting on your nose.” Jaskier’s face was creased with laughing lines which seemed to evaporate the bruises covering his face, making Yennefer’s heart relax a little.

At least before Jaskier’s face suddenly contorted in pain. “Shit...”. He moaned weakly as pain ran up his ribs. 

“Don’t move you idiot.” Yennefer glared, pushing a cushion under Jaskier’s ribs in the same way she had forced the nurses outside to show her how to do when she realised Jaskier was in severe pain when he coughed.

“Don’t be mean to me I’m injured.” Jaskier’s voice was very breathy but Yennefer was pleased to hear the light tone was still there.

“I’m being nice.” Yennefer argued, removing the cushion from Jaskier’s hunched over side and gently helping him back into a seating position.

Jaskier gave her a lopsided smile which turned into a beaming one when he realised she’d saved his pink cupcake from crashing to the floor in his sudden moment of pain. “You are an angel among people, Yenn.”

“How much fucking drugs are they giving you? I think I need some of them.” Yennefer replied, holding in a wince as Jaskier chuckled softly. This time he managed to control the pain, though his left hand did clutch against his stomach slightly. 

“Thanks for this, Yenn.” Jaskier suddenly announced after they’d sat in comfortable silence for a little while. 

“For what?” Yennefer replied, pretending to be confused.

“For this. For...”Jaskier paused a moment as if trying to think of the right words. ‘For not treating me with kid gloves.” Yennefer shrugged in response. “Really Yenn, thank you.” Jaskier took hold of Yennefer’s hand for a moment giving it a light squeeze and she allowed it, allowing a kind smile to grace her lips before switching back to her usual smirk.

“I have you know I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She replied. 

Jaskier looked like he was about to say something but the Doctor came in in that moment and interrupted them. “Sorry, I just needed to check on my patient.”

“Don’t worry.” Yennefer replied. “I can’t stay here all day anyway and I’m not sticking around while you sleep off whatever drugs they’re giving you.” Jaskier smile in reply but Yennefer could see the disappointment settling in her eyes. “Triss said she’s coming to visit soon so be warned, I think she said something about hugging you and never letting go.” Yennefer rolled her eyes to show her visible disgust, even as she saw the bright light return to Jaskier’s eyes.

“Thanks Yenn, I’ll see you soon.” Jaskier said, blowing her a kiss with his no longer shaking left hand, Yennefer noted pleased.

“No problem.” Yennefer replied before pausing at the door and throwing over her shoulder as if in an afterthought. “And if you ever tell anyone about this I will end you.” She tried not to smile at the snort of laughter that gained her.

As she headed out of the hospital, Yennefer couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased with herself. She’d managed to do what she‘d set out to accomplish coming here and gotten Jaskier out of his shell a little. True he was a long way from normal and it would take a long time to get back to normal (if he ever did) but Yennefer had managed to get him to smile, hell even laugh when no one else had. Not that Yennefer had any doubt in her mind that she was capable of doing it. After all, anything Yennefer decided she was going to do she always succeeded at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed.


	13. Chapter 13

Jaskier had been stuck in the hospital for a week and this was the first time he felt like himself again. In fairness, he had been unconscious or drugged up for 3 days of the 7 but still. When Yennefer left, Jaskier felt the gaping abyss of despair pulling at him again. Distantly, he thought that might make a good song but his traitorous brain didn’t even have the heart to string together rudimentary lyrics.

He hadn’t been lying when he’d thanked Yennefer, she was the first person since he’d woken up that didn’t treat him like glass. The small conversation acting as if nothing was wrong had given Jaskier’s heart a much needed lift but as she left the despair grew.

Secretly, Jaskier was glad Geralt had disappeared. He loved the man but he was hovering unbearably. Like everyone else, Jaskier thought. Even Ciri was treated him like a wounded doll and subconsciously Jaskier hated it. But there wasn’t anything he could do. He couldn’t seem to get his thoughts away from the morose fact of his current state. Even laughing with Yennefer had caused him unbearable pain his ribs.

Jaskier didn’t fully remember what happened in the few days he’d been in the hands of his kidnappers. He remembered fragments of pain and he woke from every drug endured sleep with a distant memory of his hand being crushed. But he couldn’t remember details. 

“How are you feeling today, Jaskier?” Doctor Priscilla asked, dragging Jaskier’s eyes from the door to her face. She was a very beautiful lady and had Jaskier met her on the street he would have given her a flirtatious smile. But this wasn’t normal life. What happened to him hadn’t been normal.

“Fine.” Jaskier mumbled, wincing at his voice. It wasn’t nearly as croaky or breathless as it had been but it still wasn’t what he was used to hearing when he spoke.

“Your oxygen stats are going down a little.” The doctor noted. “We’ll have to keep an eye on it and if it gets worse we’ll have to reintroduce the nose cannula.” Jaskier held back the groan at this. They’d only taken it off the day before and when they had Ciri had seemed to smile brighter. Even Geralt had relaxed, albeit minutely, as if it symbolised Jaskier getting better. If it went back on Jaskier didn’t think he could handle the disheartened, worried looks from his family.

“And the pain?’’ The Doctor continued. “I’m going to start reducing the morphine again today, if that’s ok?” Jaskier just nodded, well aware that his opinion didn’t really matter. The Doctor’s and nurses would do what they thought was best, even when Jaskier’s ribs, knee and hand burned with every small movement. The only consolation was his head no longer felt like someone was drilling into it.

“I’ve got you an appointment with the physiotherapist tomorrow morning for your hand and knee.” This got Jaskier’s attention and the Doctor actually smiled when he lifted his head to look at her properly.

“Does that mean I’ll be able to go home soon?” Jaskier asked. He’d wanted to go home since waking up but everyone had kept batting away his questions with a maybe soon answer.

“We’ll see.” Jaskier felt his shoulder droop a little in defeat.

“How about a shower?” Jaskier was well aware he hadn’t had a proper wash since the morning of being kidnapped and his whole skin seemed to be crawling under him. The nurses were given him daily wash downs but they were not only degrading but they didn’t give Jaskier as through clean as he felt he needed. Sometimes when waking he could almost feel the hands of his kidnappers on his skin.

“If the physiotherapist goes well, we might be able to work that out.” The Doctor smiled and Jaskier managed to smile back. He knew a shower wouldn’t actually solve his problems but it would go a long way to making him feel human again. “There was something else I’d like to discuss Jaskier.” Doctor Priscilla’s tone had turned serious. “I’d like to recommend some form of therapy, where you can talk to someone about it.” Jaskier went to shake his head, they’d asked him this before, Geralt had pleaded with him to talk to someone when it was first suggested. They all thought it would help but Jaskier couldn’t. He couldn’t bare think of what had happened, let alone talk about it with a complete stranger. “Just think about it. You don’t have to do it now, but I think it really will help.”

With this Doctor Priscilla left Jaskier alone in his room. He sat there in silence for a few minutes before a flash of memory crossed through Jaskier’s vision:

“That’s cute.” One of the men standing in the corner and watching the proceedings laughed. “Cahir, Geralt didn’t tell him.”  
Cahir had a smirk on his face as he once more let go of Jaskier’s chin, letting it drop down to his chest. “It doesn’t really matter what you know. You’re still going to die

Jaskier fell back against the hospital beds in a cold sweat, gasping for air. His breathing was hitching and Jaskier felt hot fresh tears leaking in his hands. The pain in his ribs flared up and Jaskier fell towards, left hand wrapping protectively around his stomach as pain travelled through him. His right arm laid helplessly on his bed when a second memory hit. This wasn’t people, talking. No this was white hot agony in his right had as it was crushed to pulp. Jaskier let out a choked sob. Through the black spots and blurred vision, Jaskier could see a nurse enter the room. He tried to say something, to tell her to not give him any more pain. That if she did that he’d be stuck in his own personal hell, unable to get out of it as the morphine pulled him into unconioussness. But he couldn’t. All that came out was gasping breaths as his body fell backwards (a nurse changing the bed to lying rather than seated).

He tried to lift his hand but the morphine had made him effectively paralysed. And all through that Jaskier saw flashes of Cahir, telling him Geralt wasn’t the man he thought he was. Of thugs hitting him in his unprotected stomach and sides with a bat. Of pain coursing through his knee as he fell forwards down a flight of stairs. Of Ciri, looking back at him. Emerald green eyes blown wide in fear as he told her to run.

The next morning.......

Geralt woke with a start. His left arm automatically sought out the warmth of Jaskier’s body next to his in the bed but he found nothing but Cole bare bedding by his side. Geralt dropped back into the bed staring at the ceiling, trying to get rid of the images in his head. Images of Jaskier, lying, practically dead, on a dingy warehouse floor. Blood pooling around him. He could have died. With that thought, Geralt sprang out of bed.

He should never have let Ciri and Yennefer talk him into going home. He should be at the hospital with Jaskier. There for Jaskier in case the other man needed anything. Because he was there in the hospital because of Geralt so Geralt deserved to see the man he loved in pain. Deserved to watch as Jaskier startled awake from a nightmare. Deserved to see the pain and sorrow in those blue eyes. Geralt deserved to feel his heart torn into pieces as the man he loved suffered. Because it was Geralt’s fault that Jaskier was suffering.

“Morning.” Ciri said brightly as Geralt staggered into the kitchen. She was sitting at the kitchen table, eating toast and a cup of tea to her side. She had a book open on her lap, hair still mushed from sleep. She was still wearing her bright blue pyjama’s from the night before and the sun that shined through the open blinds made the air around her shimmer. It looked like a scene from every morning for the last 5 years. Except one thing was missing Jaskier.

“I’m going back to the hospital. I’ll get Eskel to come pick you up and take you to Vesemir’s.”. Geralt grunted, going to grab his keys from the brightly coloured bowl Jaskier had bought a few years ago at a village market he’d dragged Geralt to. As Geralt stared at it, remembering the happy care free smile on Jaskier’s face as he dragged Geralt to every single bloody stall. Geralt had pretended to hate it, grunting and mumbling as Jaskier talked with the stall owners, asking them hundreds of questions about what they were selling. But Geralt had loved it. He’d loved seeing Jaskier so happy, loved watching him interact with other people. Well and truly in his element. And then Geralt thought of the scared look in Jaskier’s eyes as anyone walked into his hospital room. What if he never smiled again. What if he never laughed and talked with a random stranger at a village market again.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Ciri huffed. “You’re still in your pyjama’s.”. Geralt looked down ant him and to his surprise he was bare feet and in the light grey joggers he usually slept in. He didn’t eve have a bloody shirt on. “And anyway, I’m coming to.” Ciri noted before dropping her head slightly. “I was going to take Jaskier a few things up.” for the first time, Geralt noted the bag sat at Ciri’s feet.

“Now, I’m going for a shower and you are going to have breakfast and then you can shower.” Ciri announced, jumping from the kitchen chair. “Jaskier always says breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Geralt nodded dumbly. He did. He always made sure Geralt and Ciri ate before they disappeared for the day. Geralt looked at the pile of unwashed dishes and something broke in him as he sat at the table. He could hear the shower being switched on and was glad Ciri wasn’t there to see the tears appearing in his eyes. 

Geralt was by no means a slob, but he could be excused for not being the most domestic man in the world. He and Ciri had managed well enough before Jaskier turned up. Actually, if Geralt was honest with himself, he hadn’t. He’d moved back into the house with Vesemir when Ciri had arrived, needing the help from the man who was practically his Father. Vesemir had kept Ciri on a schedule. And Yennefer had made sure Ciri got to school. Hell she’d been the one to enroll the girl in school. Yennefer had been the one to take her shopping for clothes. Vesemir had been the one to get her into a routine, make sure both her and Geralt were up on time to go to school. Vesemir had been the one in the first few months of having Ciri to remind Geralt to pick her up from school. Of course Geralt loved Ciri, he loved her with every piece of his heart. But Geralt hadn’t had the first clue how to look after her. How to raise a little girl.

And then Jaskier had come into his life and it had been like there’d been a place in their little family that had been waiting for him. When Geralt had brought up the idea of moving in together he’d honestly thought Jaskier would refuse. After all, seeing Geralt and Ciri every few days and a few times of them staying over didn’t mean the younger man was ready to move in with a man and his adopted daughter. But Jaskier had jumped at it. And he’d transformed the little cottage which Geralt had into an actual home. He and Ciri had enthusiastically jumped into decorated the old cottage within the week of Jaskier agreeing to move in with them. Everything Geralt looked at had Jaskier flare. Left to him, Jaskier would say, the whole place would be a black, black and more black. Jaskier kept the place clean, tidying up after Geralt, who didn’t see the point in putting away a few pots when they would just be used again the next day. He started tagging along with Ciri and Yenn on their shopping trips, Jaskier coming back with just as many clothes as Ciri.

Geralt honestly didn’t know what he would do if he lost Jaskier. He didn’t think he or Ciri would survive it.

.....

Ciri was jumping up in excitement as Geralt parked the car in the hospital car park. “You think Jaskier will like what I brought him?” She asked. “I can bring him some other things if he doesn’t.”

“I’m sure he will.” Geralt replied as he took the bag from Ciri, letting the teenager lead the way into the hospital. Geralt kept his eyes peeled as they walked the now familiar route up the hospital corridors to Jaskier’s room. He would never take the chance of anyone touching the people he loved again.

As they got to Jaskier’s room, Geralt felt his heart leap into his throat in panic. The bed was empty. Jaskier wasn’t there.


	14. Chapter 14

“Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice pierced through Geralt’s panic and he felt himself relax slightly as he saw Jaskier appear down the hall. He was sitting a wheelchair, a nurse pushing from behind. Jaskier’s right knee was extended in front of him and the dark bruising around the bandages which Geralt hadn’t seen before made him wince slightly. He was pale and there was a pained grimace on his face but Geralt was surprised to see Jaskier was smiling. Not a pained, half hearted smile like it had been the past week, but an actual proper smile.

Geralt striped cowards, closing the gap between him and Jaskier and leant down to give the younger man a kiss on the cheek. Jaskier laughed against Geralt’s lips, returning the gesture, left hand wrapping in Geralt’s white hair. “You’re a bit eager this morning.” Geralt could have laughed at the joyful sound of Jaskier’s voice. There was still the hint of breathlessness but it sounded almost normal. “What will people think.” Jaskier murmured, still not releasing his hold on Geralt’s hair. At least until the nurse coughed from behind Jaskier. This caused Geralt to step back, blushing slightly. But the joy in his heart stayed put as Jaskier let out a small laugh at Geralt’s obvious embarrassment. It was hard to miss the wince of pain Jaskier gave as he laughed but the smile never left him face.

It was hard work getting Jaskier situated back in the bed. Geralt stood by, watching critically as the nurse wheeled Jaskier to the side of the bed. “You’ll make the good lady nervous, glaring like that.” Jaskier chuckled, causing Geralt to grunt. This seemed to amuse Jaskier as he met Geralt’s eyes, blue eyes dancing in amusement.

Geralt tried not to jump in and push the nurse off Jaskier as the musician’s face contorted in pain as she assisted Jaskier in standing. Jaskier wobbled slightly, right leg hanging uselessly as the nurse helped him to the side of the bed. Pain shot up his legs but Jaskier breathed through the pain as the nurse lifted his right leg back into a comfortable position (Jaskier having moved his left one onto the bed himself).

“What’s got you in such a good mood this morning?” Ciri asked, jumping into the seat on Jaskier’s left side, leaving Geralt the right hand seat.

“That, my dear Ciri, is very simple.” Jaskier said, smile back in place now that he’d gotten the pain under control. “My physiotherapist let me have a shower. I now no longer smell like Geralt after a long day.” Ciri laughed at this and Geralt felt the weight in his chest lift further. That was the first time Ciri had laughed properly since Jaskier had been kidnapped.

“You saw the physiotherapist?” Geralt asked and Jaskier nodded. Geralt was aware of the slight shift as some of the light disappeared from Jaskier’s eyes. Geralt felt disappointment and anger at himself for ruining the moment ran through him.

“Does that mean you can come home soon?” Ciri asked and the smile returned.

“I hope so.” Geralt just nodded. He wasn’t convinced Jaskier was well enough by any means to come home but he didn’t want to burst Jaskier’s happy bubble.

“I brought you some things.” Ciri announced, pulling her bag onto the bed. “I thought this room was a bit boring so I thought maybe you’d like a bit of colour.” Ciri announced, pulling out the bright orange blanket Jaskier had sitting on their sofa at home. “And some music so you can have something interesting to listen to when Geralt gets boring.” Geralt let out a huff of annoyance as Ciri and Jaskier shared a wink. “And some books.” Ciri continued. “And I got everyone to sign a card.” Ciri announced, pulling out a card in a bright pink envelope.

Geralt remembered signing the card the night before but hadn’t really registered doing it until that moment. “Thank you Ciri.” Jaskier laughed, a small tear running down his right eye. He hadn’t noticed so Geralt gently touched his cheek to wipe it away. Jaskier moved his eyes to meet Geralt’s and laughed a little. “Happy tears, I assure you.” Jaskier smiled, right arm lifting for a moment as if he wanted to take Geralt’s hand before remembering the hand was encased in bandages and he couldn’t actually move the fingers. “Really, it means a lot.”

Ciri grinned happily. “I’ll put them here.” Ciri said, placing Jaskier’s belongings on the small table on his left. “What are these?” Ciri beamed, pulling out a box of cupcakes in an assortment of colours.

“A gift from Yennefer.” Jaskier replied. “Do you want one?” Ciri nodded, pulling out purple frosted cupcake before passing the box to Geralt. Geralt took one, passing Jaskier the one he asked for. 

“Yennefer never buys me cake.” Geralt noted, ignoring the sweetness of the cake. Jaskier had been horrified to learn on their 3rd date Geralt didn’t really eat cake and had resolved in that instance to make Geralt eat all the cakes he’d missed out on in his life. Not that Geralt much liked the sugary sweetness but seeing Jaskier’s beaming smile was an award in itself.

“And she finds out I told you she will kill and or main me.” Jaskier replied, deadly serious. Ciri gave a nod of agreement which made Geralt’s lip quirk into a smile.

.....

As Geralt walked back from the bathroom, he almost walked into Doctor Priscilla. He had left Ciri and Jaskier watching a Disney movie on Jaskier’s laptop which Ciri had also brought with her. “Geralt, hello.” The Doctor said, “I was hoping to talk to you.” Geralt frowned but allowed the Doctor to pull him into her office.

Geralt took a seat opposite the Doctor, waiting for her to begin. “I know I’m not meant to discuss Jaskier’s progress outside of my patient, however I have a few concerns.” Geralt frowned further. Jaskier had seemed so happy today. More like his usual self, Geralt had almost let himself be deluded into thinking things were going back to normal.

“Is he ok?” Geralt asked, afraid the Doctor was going to say one of Jaskier’s many injuries had caused further complications.

“Physically, he’s recovering excellently considering.” The Doctor replied, which just confused Geralt even more. If Jaskier was recovering then what was wrong. “Yesterday evening, Jaskier had some sort of flash back.” Geralt felt a pang of worry in his chest. “He had quite a large panic attack. We had to give him a sedative so he didn’t hurt himself.” The Doctor continued. “I raised yesterday that he should talk to someone but he didn’t want to.” Geralt nodded, he’d asked Jaskier himself but the other man had said no. “I was wondering if you could speak to him. He needs help. Professional help.”

“He seemed fine today.” Geralt argued. he didn’t like how this woman was making it sound as if there was something wrong with Jaskier. 

The Doctor nodded. “He wasn’t this morning. When he woke up the nurses told me he was very groggy and unresponsive even.” Geralt shook his head, not wanting to believe Jaskier’s happy mood wasn’t permanent. “Jaskier did brighten up a bit after the physiotherapist but I believe he would have gone back to being unresponsive if he hadn’t seen you and Ciri when he did.” Geralt thought back to seeing Jaskier smiling, happy to see them. But then he realised Jaskier hadn’t been smiling at first. He’d only started to smile when he saw Geralt and Ciri. How much of his current mood was faked. Was Jaskier actually not happy?

“I’ll talk to him.” Geralt replied and the Doctor nodded her thanks, letting Geralt leave her office.

.....

“Ciri, why don’t you go and get something from the cafe?” Geralt had only just sat down from his rather long bathroom break when he said this. Jaskier tried to look at the man’s face but Geralt wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Can you get me a hot chocolate?” Jaskier asked, worry blooming in his chest. Geralt had seemed happy not 15 minutes ago but now his face had slipped into a angry glare. Something was bothering the white haired man

Once Ciri left the room, Jaskier turned his head, cursing his useless right knee for not allowing him to turn fully. “What’s wrong, love?” Jaskier asked, voice soft. He wanted to touch Geralt’s face but the man was on his right side and Jaskier’s right hand was a useless lump.

Geralt didn’t say anything for a moment before he lifted his amber eyes to meet Jaskier’s own blue ones. “The Doctor told me what happened last night.” Geralt stated and Jaskier winced. 

He remembered little of the panic attack he’d suffered last night but the memories his traitorous brain had shown him had remained. He’d spent the whole of his drugged sleep dreaming of the torturous pain that had been done to him. When he’d woken up, Jaskier had felt a deep pit of despair in his chest so badly he’d barely been able to make any sort of noise as events happened around him

The trip to the physiotherapist had gotten Jaskier’s mind to wake up a bit, especially when the Doctor told him he could have a shower. And he hadn’t been lying to Ciri, the shower had rejuvenated him. His mind had cleared considerably, feeling clean going a long way for his brain to expel those memories. But as soon as the nurse had gotten him out of the hot water, Jaskier’s brain had felt the heavy weight of despair pushing his sort of happy mood down. And then he’d seen Geralt and memories of being told Geralt wasn’t the kind loving man he’d fallen in love came rushing back. That Geralt was some sort of gangster.

But this was Geralt, Jaskier had remembered thinking. Geralt who he had known for the last 6 years. Geralt who can’t possibly have lied about everything for the last 6 years. Ciri smiling face had made Jaskier’s brain jumpstart. He’s seen the small smile on her face begin to fade as she saw him and Jaskier had forced a smile on his own face. He’d forced down the dark memories. The thought of Geralt lying to him for years. He made himself be happy. And when it had worked and Geralt had come over and kissed him like nothing had happened no one was more surprised than Jaskier had been.

“It was nothing. Just a silly dream.” Jaskier replied, trying to shake it off. The pit of despair was swirling in his brain and Jaskier refused to fall into it again. “I’m fine.” Jaskier said, ignoring the pain flaring in his ribs as he twisted his upper body so his left hand could take Geralt own hands. “Please, stop worrying about me.”

Something in his face must have betrayed the lie though as Geralt shook his head, taking his hand back. Anger flashed in those amber eyes and Jaskier felt himself flinch away. Which just made Geralt’s face contort in guilt. “Jaskier, you need help.”

I don’t.” Jaskier growled and oh, not deep despair but anger. White hot bubbling anger was coursing through Jaskier now. And Jaskier, who’d never so much as raised his voice at Geralt before in the 6 years of their relationship shouted at him. “You don’t have the right to tell me what I need.”

“Look at yourself Jaskier.” Geralt’s own temper flaring. “You’re a mess. You need help before you do something stupid.”

“Like what.” Jaskier growled, voice going low, eyes flashing in anger at the man in front of him. “You think I’m broken. Don’t deny it Geralt. You think I’m some sort of fucking broken doll that needs help. Well I don’t.” Geralt’s eyes flashed with anger.

“How else am I meant to treat you? You won’t even admit anything’s fucking wrong.” Jaskier went to argue but Geralt interrupted him. “How the hell are you supposed to get better when you won’t admit what happened. When you’re pretending to laugh and joke with Ciri, as if it never happened. How’s that meant to make her feel. What is she supposed to think.” Jaskier flinched at Geralt’s words. “You are fucking broken and you need to let us fucking help you.”

Silence followed Geralt’s words. Jaskier felt anger boiling around him as the deep pit of despair washed over him again. He could see the guilt start to pass in Geralt’s eyes as the other man realised what he’d said. Realised he’d crossed a line.

“Jaskier...”. Geralt started but Jaskier shut him up with a glare.

“How fucking dare you tell me how to act.” Jaskier glared and Geralt seemed to shrink in on himself. Jaskier had never once in 6 years gotten mad at Geralt. Sure he’d lost his temper a few times. They’d had their fair share of arguments, after all what couple that had been together as long as they had hadn’t. But this was different. Jaskier had never actually been properly mad before. “What right do you have to tell me what to do when you’ve been lying to me for 6 fucking years.” Geralt flinched and a small part of Jaskier’s heart broke at the heartbroken look in Jaskier’s eyes. But the bigger part of him, that wasn’t falling into the pit of despair that had been clawing at him since yesterday evening, was boiling over in undenied rage. “Now get the fuck out.”

Geralt stood up, standing at the doorframe and looking back at Jaskier. “Jaskier, I’m sorry.” Geralt mumbled but Jaskier just closed his eyes. Tears were running down his face and he knew if he looked at the heartbroken look in Geralt’s eyes he’d forgive him in an instant.

But Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to do it. The pain, the torment. His hand. His fucking hand. None of that hurt anymore than the knowledge. The truth which Geralt had just confirmed by his apology. They’d spent 6 years together. The majority of Jaskier’s adult life had been spent loving this man.

Loving a lie.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter than usual but I felt this was the best place to stop. Hope you enjoy.

“Geralt?” Ciri asked as Geralt walked towards her. His head was down and when she said his name he lifted his head. His amber eyes were shining with us he’d tears and his face looked distraught. Ciri’s heart leapt into her chest at why Geralt would look so upset. “Jaskier...Is...Is he ok?” Ciri stammered, afraid to hear the answer because if something had happened to Jaskier she didn’t know what they would do.

“He’s fine.” Geralt grumbled and Ciri felt her heart lift in relief. 

“Then what’s wrong?” Ciri asked and Geralt just shook his head. “Geralt?” Ciri asked. If Jaskier was fine she couldn’t understand why Geralt would be so upset. He’d been fine a few minutes ago. Laughing and joking with Jaskier and Ciri like they hadn’t since Jaskier had been taken.

“I...I think it‘s over.” Geralt stammered and Ciri felt tears in her eyes.

“Why?” Ciri demanded. In her opinion Geralt and Jaskier were the perfect couple. They loved each other. They were her family. They couldn’t just be over.

Geralt shook his head. “It’s fine Ciri.” Ciri didn’t believe a word of that. “Go and finish your visit. I’ll wait in the car.” And before Ciri could say anything, Geralt walked passed her and back up the corridor.

......

Jaskier was sitting in the hospital bed, head staring at the sheets and tears running down his face. “Oh, Ciri.” He said, wiping at his eyes and trying to give her a watery smile when the teenager walked in. He failed miserably in Cir’s opinion. His left hand was shaking and his blue eyes had turned a stormy grey.

She placed the hot chocolate Jaskier had asked for on the table but Jaskier didn’t seem to notice. “What happened?” She asked, hoping she could get an actual answer from Jaskier. But instead of an answer Jaskier let out a small sob. Which just led him to gasping in pain as pain flared up his side. “Should I get a nurse?” Ciri asked frantically, as Jaskier’s breathing started to come out in small gasps.

“No....No I’m fine.” Jaskier stammered. He paused for a few minutes, getting his breathing back under control before continuing. “Geralt...”. Jaskier started but didn’t finish.

“He’s staying in the car.” Ciri announced, frown deepening. Jaskier’s posture slumped further and Ciri felt her heart leap to her mouth in worry. She grabbed Jaskier’s hand and squeezed it tightly. She didn’t have a clue what she was supposed to do but it seemed to help as Jaskier squeezed back.

“I;m sorry Ciri.” Jaskier said, eyes not moving from where they were staring holes in the blanket. “I am so so sorry.” Ciri didn’t understand why Jaskier what Jaskier was apologising. Jaskier took his hand from Ciri’s grip and wiped the tears away as they fell. “You should go.” 

“I don’t want to.” Ciri said, aware her voice was wobbling as well. She couldn’t leave Jaskier like this. But Geralt, he’d looked distraught and he was sitting alone in the car. 

Jaskier turned his gaze to her and gave her a small smile. “Geralt needs you more.” Jaskier said, taking Ciri’s hand in his. “Don’t cry.” He brushed the small tears on her eyes.

“What happened?” Ciri demanded. She couldn’t understand why Geralt said it was over when both men seemed utterly broken by the very thought of that. Jaskier just shook his head sadly.

“It doesn’t matter.” He mumbled. “Now, I’m sure you have better things to do today than stay with me.” Jaskier tried for a smile but the effect was ruined. The dark bruises on his face were starting to fade but they stood out starkly on Jaskier’s pale skin.

“But...”. Ciri started but she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll see if Geralt will come back in.” Ciri started but Jaskier shook his head.

“No.” Jaskier paused to take a breath, stormy grey eyes meeting Ciri’s wide emerald ones. “I just need a bit of space Ciri.” 

Ciri didn’t know what to say at the clear dismissal. She stood up, wringing her hands in her lap as she looked at Jaskier, still crying silently. “I’ll come back tomorrow, yeah?” Ciri asked and Jaskier just smiled at her sadly.

As Ciri walked out of the hospital room, she glanced a look behind her. Jaskier had curled onto his side as much as his injuries allowed him to, sobbing quietly into the orange blanket Ciri had brought him. She wanted to comfort him but she didn’t know how. She felt her own tears running down and in that moment she just wanted everything to go back to normal. She couldn’t bare the idea that her family had been torn apart.

......

Geralt said nothing as Ciri got into the car. He offered her a small smile and Ciri distantly became aware that his eyes were red from crying. He wasn’t crying now but his hands were clenched around the steering wheel.

“What happened?” Ciri demanded, willing to argue with Geralt until he told her. But the fight seemed to have drained out of him as he turned to look at her.

“Jaskier found out what I do.” Geralt started, voice shaky. “That I’d lied to him for 6 years...and he told me to leave.” Ciri said nothing as Geralt started the car, heading the in the direction of home.

When Geralt had told her what he did she’d been shocked and admittedly scared. After all, the idea that Geralt was a member of a scary gang was a bit terrifying. But the Witcher’s weren’t like most other gangs. They did what they did to try and help people. To keep people from taking drugs. Helped people who were attacked and had no one to help them, like Dara’s dad. They protected people from monsters.

Except they were also scary. Ciri remembered the men that had attacked her and Jaskier with guns. Because of their connection to the Witcher’s. The men at Vesemir’s house who had been carrying guns. Meant to protect her. Meant to hurt people to protect her. Geralt had hurt people. had killed people. 

But they were still heroes, Ciri thought. It didn’t matter that what they did was illegal. They did what they did to protect the world from monsters. And for that reason, Ciri could forgive the lie. She could forgive it because Geralt was her family. Because, as much as she said she was an adult now, she knew she wasn’t. She forgave them because she understood why Geralt hadn’t told her. She’d been to young. He’d been trying to protect her from the truth.

But Jaskier should have known. Jaskier wasn’t a child. When Ciri had found out the truth she hadn’t for a second thought Jaskier hadn’t known it. But he hadn’t. And he hadn’t found out the truth from Geralt telling him. He’d found out from the monsters hurting him. It didn’t matter that the Witcher’s were heroes. That they‘ killed the monsters. Because the monsters had already hurt Jaskier. And Geralt had lied. 

Ciri could understand why Jaskier was angry. She had been a little angry when she’d found out Geralt hadn’t told her the truth. But she understood why he hadn’t.

Ciri looked down at her phone as a message popped up from Yennefer. Geralt wasn’t paying any attention, focused solely on the road ahead. He couldn’t lose Jaskier, Ciri realised. It would break him. it would break their little family apart and in Ciri’s 16 years of life she’d already lost 2 families. She refused to lose a third.

Ciri took her phone and texted Yennefer what had happened. Ciri had no intention of losing this family. Not over something out of any of their control. And there was one person in the whole world neither Geralt nor Jaskier could ignore. Yennefer.


	16. Chapter 16

“Everything ok?” Triss asked from where she was cleaning up the remains of last nights customers. Yennefer didn’t answer, eyes furrowing into a frown as she looked at her phone. Triss sighed. “I’ll just talk to myself then, it’s fine.” Triss continued and Yennefer didn’t even look up. “You know, I’m considering closing the bar for a few days. I think we all need a break.” Triss continued. Yennefer hadn’t missed any shifts since they’d found Jaskier and Triss was a bit worried about the other woman. She looked tired. In fairness, no one else would have noticed, Yennefer his it well, but Triss had been friends with Yenn for years. She could see it in the slight slump in Yennefer’s perfect posture. Could see the violet in her eyes weren’t as vibrant as usual. Little things, but still noticeable.

“Mmm.” Yennefer hummed in agreement and Triss almost took the phone out of her hand then and there. Yennefer would never agree to closing the bar for a few days. 

“Exactly.” Triss continued. “I’ll let tonight’s staff know then.”

“What?” Yennefer suddenly asked, eyes turning away from her phone and glaring at Triss.

“So you weren’t listening.” Triss laughed before sobering slightly under Yennefer’s glare. “I was saying we should close up for a few days.”

“Ok.” Yennefer agreed and Triss almost choked in shock.

“Really.” Triss asked, “It’s just I remember you saying the last time I suggested you take a holiday that you’d rest when you were dead.” Yennefer looked at Triss then and Triss could see the bone weariness in her friends face. “Hey, are you ok?” Triss said, wrapping Yennefer in a hug from behind.

“I’m fine Triss.” Yennefer said, leaning back slightly. “Just tired. You’re right. We need a rest. We all do.”

“Now that’s settled, what’s got you frowning at your phone for?” Triss asked. She was fully prepared to steal the phone of Yenn unless the other woman answered.

“Ciri.” Yennefer sighed and Triss felt worry in her. The blonde haired girl had stolen Triss’ heart as surely as Yennefer’s when she’d first met her. “She said Geralt and Jaskier called it quits.”

“Shit.” Triss whistled. “Why the hell would they do that? I mean there a brilliant couple.” Triss announced, hear going out for the two men that had suffered so terribly in the last few days.

“Jaskier found out about the Witcher’s when he was with those Nilfgaardian bastards.” Yennefer growled, and Triss felt a surge of hate. What she wouldn’t give to make them suffer all over again for hurting Jaskier. “He didn’t take it well.”

“Well, it sounds like our little lark could do with some cheering up then.” Triss announced.

......

“Geralt, what are you doing here?” Eskel asked, looking up as Geralt walked through the door to Vesemir’s living room.

“Shouldn’t you be with Jaskier?” Lambert asked from where he’d been sitting with his feet sitting on top of the table. 

Geralt just glared at them both, dumping himself onto a seat at the table. “I need someone to keep an eye on Ciri.” Geralt growled.

“I’ll get Cohen to do it. He’s been wanting to check on the brat for a few days.” Lambert replied, waiting for the retort Geralt gave whenever Lambert used his affectionate nickname for Ciri. But Geralt just grunted in response.

As Lambert went to leave the room, Eskel grabbed their youngest brother’s arm and said, “Get Vesemir.” Lambert grunted in response, leaving the Eskel alone with Geralt.

“You going to tell me what’s wrong?” Eskel asked.

Geralt glared at him once before asking, “How are we with clearing out the Nilfgaardians.” Eskel and Lambert had been dealing with the remaining few members of the gang while Geralt had been pre-occupied. Not that Eskel or Lambert minded. The two , Triss (who was a font of all knowledge much to Lambert’s surprise) and Vesemir had agreed it was best for Geralt to spend time with his family. They could handle the Witcher’s business for a while without him.

“Getting there. Just a few more places to clear out.” Eskel answered. Vesemir entered the room as he said this, a few minute later followed by Lambert.

“What can I do?” Geralt growled.

“Nothing much for you to do.” Lambert replied. A rare look of concern passed over Lambert’s face, and it must be bad Eskel thought if even Lambert’s concerned.

“I don’t give a fuck what the job is. Just give me something to fucking do.” Geralt growled, slamming a fist onto the table. Anger was raging through the white haired Witcher’s body but Eskel had seen the distraught look in Geralt’s eyes.

“Ciri told me what happened.” Vesemir said, taking a seat at the table. Eskel wanted to ask what that was but he kept his mouth shut, thankful when Lambert did to. They could always ask the old Witcher later if need be.

“I’m fine.” Geralt growled, hand clenching into fists.

“If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look fine.” Vesemir continued. “I’m sure you’re just over exaggerated and it’s not actually over.” Geralt lifted blazing amber eyes at Vesemir and Eskel thought if that had been anyone else who’d said that Geralt would have knocked them flat on their back.

“Jaskier told me fuck off.” Geralt growled. “I lied to him for 6 fucking years, so yeah. I think it’s fucking over.” Geralt’s blazing eyes flashed to the 3 Witcher’s in front of him. “Now give me a fucking job to do.” 

“Don’t give up on him, Geralt.” Vesemir said, “He’s hurting now but he won’t be hurting forever.” Geralt just growled, getting to his feet. He surveyed the 3 Witcher’s in front of him before storming outside.

Vesemir sighed deeply before turning to his other 2 adopted sons. “Keep an eye on him.” He said. Lambert and Eskel nodded, following Geralt front he room.

......

Jaskier hadn’t moved since Geralt and Ciri had left. He’d cried for an hour after Ciri had left, only stopping when the nurses had threatened him with a sedative again. They were only trying to help, Jaskier distantly thought. They’d returned the nose cannula a few hours ago, the crying aggravating his broken ribs so much that he wasn’t breathing properly. The silent tears hand stopped trailing down his face an hour after that. For the last 2 hours, Jaskier had been staring blankly at the orange blanket Ciri had brought him.

All the anger and heartbreak from his conversation with Geralt had evaporated. And in it’s place the deep pit of unfeeling despair had regained Jaskier. He’d fallen into it willingly when it came. He’d just lost his family. The two people he loved more than anyone in the entire fucking world. And he’d screwed it up. 

He had been mad at Geralt, he’d hated that the man had lied to him. But he still loved him. Loved him so fucking much. And by not accepting the apology. By letting his anger reign his decision and actions. Jaskier had lost the man he loved. The man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And by extension, he’d lost Ciri. Because Ciri was Geralt’s daughter. Not his. And Jaskier would never ask her to choose between them.

His right knee was a blaring pain from where he’d spent an hour curled up sobbing hysterically. The position he;d been lying in causing his knee to lock in place and when he’d finally agreed to sit back in a seated position, his knee had begun spasming painfully. The nurses had offered him pain killers, but Jaskier had refused. He deserved the pain. He deserved to feel the pain like Geralt and Ciri where feeling the pain from Jaskier’s anger.

Ciri’s face, Jaskier swore, her eyes had been shining with tears. Jaskier had sworn to her that he would never hurt her Father. And what had he done. He’d fucking torn Geralt’s heart out and stamped on it. In no way did it register that Geralt had been the one to lie to Jaskier. All that mattered to Jaskier was that he had let his anger ruin the most important fucking thing in his life. His family.

Doctor Priscilla had come in a little while ago, frown on her face as she assessed Jaskier’s injuries. She said the nose cannula had to stay in place until his oxygen stats got higher and if they went any lower she’d need to put him back on the oxygen mask (maybe even the ventilator if it deteriorated more). She’d looked at the bullet wound in Jaskier’s side, the only injury Jaskier had sustained that Jaskier had nearly forgotten about (or rather the pain from elsewhere in his body had been far more pressing than the dull ache on his side). She’d smiled pleased that Jaskier hadn’t torn the stitches in his fit of hysterical sobbing, but had reprimanded him for it telling him not to move so much or he would tear stitches. His hand was a constant throbbing that made Jaskier’s heart fall with every painful beat. She’d gotten him to do a few exercises the physiotherapist had shown him but when he’d tried to move the fingers slightly he’d nearly been sick with the pain.

He’s never be able to play, he thought. He’d never be able to strum out a random tune on his beloved guitars. He’d never be able to scribble down lyrics or half formed thoughts in his notepad. He was useless. He really had lost everything, Jaskier thought distantly.

“Jaskier.” Triss’ beaming voice broke Jaskier from his spiralling thoughts. She appeared at the side of the bed, pulling him into a small hug. She was gentle in the way her arms wrapped around Jaskier, her messy brown hair falling into Jaskier’s face. Jaskier choked back a sob as he wrapped he sat dumbly in her hug. He didn’t deserve a hug. He didn’t deserve comfort. Triss backed away after a few minutes, brown eyes looking into his own critically. “Yenn, you said he was doing better.” She announced, sending a half formed glare back at Yennefer who had appeared in the doorway.

“He was.” Yenn replied, taking a seat on the opposite side of Triss. Jaskier didn’t say anything about the fact that they were talking over his head. He honestly couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Ciri said that you and Geralt broke up.” Yennefer’s blunt voice broke in and Jaskier felt his heart clench painfully. 

“Don’t be so blunt, bloody hell Yenn. Can’t you see his upset enough.” Triss leapt to Jaskier’s defends, sending the black haired woman a glare.

“I thought you said you liked the no kid gloves Jaskier.” Yennefer continued, ignoring Triss’ glare. And actually, Triss wasn’t arguing as much as she sometimes did she Yennefer pushed to far. Which made Jaskier think maybe she agreed with what Yennefer was about to say. “You want the truth Jaskier?”

Yennefer waited for a moment and Jaskier distantly realised this was out. He could say no and Yennefer would drop it. She’d leave Jaskier be. But Jaskier didn’t want the out, he realised. Slowly he nodded his head and a flash of what Jaskier thought might actually be approval flashed in Yenn’s eyes.

“Well, the truth is you look like shit. And you’re an idiot. Almost as bit of an idiot as Geralt.” Yennefer started. “The Doctor told me you’re not looking after yourself and if that,”. Yennefer motioned to the nose cannula,’ is anything to go by, I’d tend to agree. You’re not looking after yourself properly, not getting any better and it’s hurting everyone around you.” Triss had a hold on Jaskier’s hand, squeezing it silently offering to get Yennefer to back off if he asked. But he didn’t, because a distant faint part of him knew Yennefer was right.

“Geralt lied to you.” Yennefer continued, ignoring the flinch Jaskier gave. “And I can see why you’re angry. Fuck I’d be furious. He should have told you the truth years ago.”

“We all told him to.” Triss added in, earning an eye roll from Yennefer.

“But he didn’t and if you were mad enough to want to end your relationship with Geralt you wouldn’t have spent a fucking hour crying about it.” Jaskier ducked his eyes slightly. “And you and Geralt are both to much of a pair of blind idiots to admit that you don’t want it to be over. And as sickening as it is watching the pair of you together, I’m not going to let you throw away a good thing. At the very least for Ciri’s sake.”

“I know.” Jaskier said, in the small pause in Yennefer’s tirade. “I’ve ruined everything.” Jaskier was aware of the croaky quality of his voice, hoarse from not using it for hours and all the crying he’d done.

Triss squeezed his hand softly. “You haven’t ruined it, Jask.” 

“How do I fix it?” Jaskier choked. He couldn’t bare the idea that he’d hurt Geralt. Hurt Geralt and Ciri.

Yennefer considered Jaskier for a moment before answering. “The Doctor said you need to talk to someone. About what happened.” Jaskier opened his mouth but Yennefer cut him off with a sharp glare. “And I don’t usually agree with telling other people your own personal business but I think she’s right.”

“It’ll help you come to terms with what’s happened.” Triss continued. “Help you recover from this.” 

“And Geralt...”. Jaskier stammered out because what was the point of recovering if he’d lost his family.

“Geralt is a stubborn arse whole thinks he’s the one that ruined this.” Yennefer continued. “And while he shares some of the blame for not telling you the truth he’s too stubborn to accept you forgive him.”

“You do forgive him, don’t you?” Triss asked and Jaskier paused for a moment.

Geralt had lied to him for 6 years. It would take a long time before Jaskier could trust him again but he still loved him. He had questions and it would take time but Jaskier didn’t want to give up on him. “Eventually, yes. I can forgive him.” This seemed t be the answer Triss and Yennefer wanted as they both nodded.

“And you’ll get some help?” Triss continued.

“Yes.” Jaskier accepted and Yennefer and Triss both nodded again.

“Excellent.” Triss replied happily. “Now, I never thought I would ever say this but I think I might fancy Lambert.” Jaskier snorted in surprise as Triss went off into a ramble of how much the Witcher was a pain in her arse and how she hated he called her Merigold. But she wouldn’t mind taking him to bed and climbing him like a fucking tree.

As the three gossiped in the quiet of the hospital room, Jaskier started to see a small ray of light. Maybe things would get better after all.


	17. Chapter 17

Jaskier sat nervously playing with a bit of string on the hospital sheet covering his legs. They nurses had removed the nose cannula that morning, pleased his oxygen levels had gone up again. He’d finally relented after Yennefer and Triss had left to taking pain medication and had managed to have a few hours of actual silent sleep before the nightmares took him.

Yennefer had organised a therapist to come and see him that morning. She’d waved away Doctor Priscilla’s options, saying they were all old hacks. Yennefer had recommended a woman called Tissaia de Vries. Jaskier had no idea how Yennefer knew the woman but she did and she wasn’t about to elaborate on that fact any time soon.

Jaskier felt the slight tremble in his left hand as he once more patted down the crease in the bed sheet. The tremble had been there on and off since Jaskier had woken up and it scared him a little. It was an outward signal that his mind wasn’t coping with what had happened to him.

“Jaskier Pankratz?” A female voice announced from the doorway and Jaskier startled a little.

“Yes...Yes. Ms de Vries.” Jaskier said, taking the offered hand in front of him and shaking it. Tissaia had a firm grip as she shook Jaskier’s hand, moving a seat to the bottom end of Jaskier’s bed. She’d closed the door behind her and Jaskier felt grateful for that, glad no one would accidentally hear their conversation.

“Yennefer recommended you to me.” Tissaia stated without pre-amble, placing a notebook and pen precisely on a hospital tray at the bottom of Jaskier’s bed. “I’ll admit I would prefer to do this in my office but your Doctor tells me your not well enough to move yet.”

Jaskier hummed in acknowledgement. After his sobbing fit yesterday Doctor Priscilla had cancelled his physiotherapist for today, stating his body needed a rest while it recovered from the stress Jaskier had put on it. 

“Yennefer also tells me that you were tortured.” Jaskier flinched at the word. He hadn’t actually considered that word before and he decided he didn’t like it. Tissaia hummed, making a note in her pad.

“I don’t think it’s exactly tortured.” jaskier tried to explain, worry piling on him as he watched Tissaia de Vries expressionless face. If he was honest, it felt a bit like he was in a headteachers office waiting to be told off. 

“Then what would you call it?” Tissaia asked and Jaskier shrugged.

“I don’t really know...Just not that.” To Jaskier’s surprise Tissaia nodded, not arguing how Jaskier was wrong and she was right. 

“I’ve had a brief run through of your injuries.” The prim woman in front of him continued and Jaskier nodded. He remembered agreeing to the Doctor’s giving Tissaia a run through of his injuries. “Have you tries moving yet?”

“Er, yes. I had an appointment the other day and the physiotherapist got me to stand up.” Jaskier felt a bit embarrassed telling her this. He was a fit and healthy man, he shouldn’t have to have needed help standing up.

“And it helped?” Tissaia continued and Jaskier shrugged a little. They hadn’t really done much, his injuries still too fresh for him to try moving his leg and hand too much.

“He gave me some exercises to try.” Jaskier replied, blushing slightly at the thought that he hadn’t actually done any of them.

Jaskier expected Tissaia to say something else but she didn’t. “I charge for each appointment by the hour.” Jaskier nodded, remembering what Yennefer had said. “But this first consultation is free of course. And everything said here is strictly confidential.” Tissaia re-straightened her pencil before continuing. “In my opinion, Mr Pankratz, you are suffering from severe trauma associated with your injuries. It is quite understandable considering the small amount I know about how you sustained these injuries.” Jaskier looked downwards. He hadn’t considered that what he was feeling was ok. That it was ok to be upset. To focused on how all of this affected the people around him. “What we discuss in these sessions is entirely up to you. I won’t force you to talk about how you sustained the injuries but I do believe it will be good for you to get those feelings out.” Jaskier startled. He knew he needed to talk about it but he honestly didn’t think he could. The memories still to raw. Too painful. “Yennefer tells me you’re a musician.” Jaskier nodded hesitantly. “If you don’t want to talk about it then I would suggest writing them down.” 

“I can’t.” jaskier mumbled, looking at his broken right hand.

“Of course you can. You have another hand don’t you?” Tissaia stated matter of factory and Jaskier hadn’t actually thought of that. 

“Now, I’ll organise an appointment for once a week. I’ll do this in one of the Doctor’s offices for the time being until you’re well enough to come to my own offices.” With this Tissaia de Vries shook his hand and left.

Jaskier sat for a moment, staring at the now open door and felt a weight lift from his chest.

.....

“Jaskier.” Ciri cheerfully announced as she walked into the hospital room.

“Ciri.” Jaskier replied, a bit surprised to see the girl. After Geralt’s leaving and the way Jaskier had acted he honestly hadn’t expected to see Ciri again. But here she was. And not alone. Vesemir followed in after the teenager, smiling slightly at Jaskier who hesitantly waved back.

“How are you today?” Ciri asked, taking her usual seat on his left side. Vesemir sat at the right side, remaining quiet.

“A lot better thank you Ciri.” jaskier said and Ciri beamed back at him. “Actually, I was wondering if you could do me a favour.” jaskier said. He’d spent the last 4 hours after his talk with Tissaia de Vries, mulling over what she had said. Surprisingly, lyrics had been floating in and out of his head and his right hand itched with the familiar feeling to right the lyrics down.

“Anything.” Ciri announced without hesitation.

Jaskier knew he was right handed and righting with his left hand would be difficult. He also knew it would be a lot easier just to type to lyrics out but he’d always found the lyrics flowed easier on pen and paper. Well, he thought to himself, he wasn’t a quitter. He was sure he could find a way to scrawl the words down with his left hand until his right was better. “Could you go to the hospital shop and get me a notebook and pen.” And Ciri’s smile widened unbelievable at that.

“You’ve got a Don’t coming.” She said excitedly and Jaskier had a moment memory of the reason why they’d gone to his studio that fateful day. He never had been able to sing his newest song to her.

“Maybe.” Jaskier replied and Ciri nodded, taking off to get him what he’d asked for.

When Ciri had disappeared, Jaskier turned to Vesemir. Jaskier had been intimidated by Vesemir the first time they’d met. In fairness, the older grizzly man was intimidating in stature. That and he was Geralt’s family, Geralt’s adopted Father. And Jaskier had wanted to impress him. 

“How are you?” Vesemir asked.

“Better, thank you.” Jaskier replied, aware of the nerves running through him. He couldn’t help but think what Vesemir thought of the man that had so recently broken his son’s heart.

“I’m glad to here it. We were all worried about you.” Vesemir stated. Jaskier dropped his gaze to the bedding again, guilt flashing over him. “Don’t apologise.” Vesemir interrupted Jaskier’s thoughts as if he;d read Jaskier’s mind. “None of this is your fault. If anyone should be apologising it should be us.” Vesemir stated, shoulders dropping a little and Jaskier suddenly felt a little overwhelmed. “I am truly truly sorry this happened to you Jaskier. Not least because it was our fault.”

“You don’t need to apologise.” Jaskier said, left hand moving to grip the older man’s hand. “It wasn’t your fault anymore than mine. And I forgive you. All of you for what happened. Even though there isn’t anything to forgive.” And to Jaskier’s surprise he agreed with what he had just said. This wasn’t the Witcher’s fault. Yes, he’d been targeted because of who he was in love with. But the monsters that had attacked him had chosen to attack him. The Witcher’s hadn’t asked them to do it. They in no way were to blame for what had happened.

“How’s Geralt?” Jaskier asked, a little hesitantly.

Vesemir was a silent for a moment before answering. “Not ok.” Jaskier felt guilt swell in his chest again.

“I need to apologise.” Jaskier murmured.

“No, you don’t.” Vesemir replied, surprising Jaskier. “Geralt understand what he did lying to you was wrong.” Vesemir’s tone was serious, brokering no argument.

“He tried to apologise.” jaskier murmured, wondering what Vesemir would think when he realised Jaskier had told Geralt to leave. Didn’t accept his apology. 

Vesemir just nodded gravely. “He did. But he did it at the wrong moment. You weren’t ready to accept his apology then. But you are now.” Jaskier nodded his head. He still wanted answers, wanted an explanation. But he wanted them from Geralt. He wanted to talk to the white haired man. To sort their issues together. He didn’t want to give up on their relationship. “He’ll come around eventually. He just needs time.” Jaskier nodded. He knew he had hurt Geralt and the fact that no one seemed to blame him for it, Jaskier couldn’t understand. But he would make it up to Geralt. He would.


	18. Chapter 18

“Geralt, that’s enough.” Eskel grabbed hold of Geralt’s arm, stopping the next blow falling onto the now unconscious Nilfgaardian. The man collapsed onto the floor, his face a bloody mess.

“Fuck.” Geralt growled, rage coursing through him as he tore his arm from Eskel’s grip. He ignored the blood dripping down his fists as he stared blankly at the warehouse floor. He didn’t notice the look Eskel and Lambert shared as he stormed out of the warehouse door.

This had been the last Nilfgaardian building. The last piece of evidence that those bastards have ever been in London. “Fuck.” Geralt growled, rubbing his bloodied hand over his face. He should be happy. He should be fucking thrilled that the Witcher’s had finally taken out the Nilfgaardian’s for good. But he couldn’t. Because it was all wrong.

“Well, that was harder than expected.” Lambert announced as he exited the building. Geralt just grunted in response. They hadn’t expected a fight. Most of the Nilfgaardian’s had made a run for it the second Yennefer had shot Cahir. But not this group. This group had holed up in their warehouse and had put up a fight to the end. In truth Geralt had enjoyed the fight. Hell, he’d needed it. He’d needed to inflict some fucking pain to the bastards that had dared to come after his family. “Geralt, you good?’ Lamber put a hand on Geralt’s shoulder and Geralt shook it off angrily.

He knew Vesemir had asked his two brothers to keep an eye on him. He understood why. He was all over the place. Anger coursing through him and all he wanted was to fucking hit something. Which was why he’d been so glad when Yennefer (having being asked by Vesemir, though Geralt didn’t actually know that) had offered to look after Ciri for a little while.

It had been nearly a week since his blow up with Jaskier and he hadn’t seen him since. “Fuck.” Geralt cursed again, kicking a rock in anger. Some might mistake this for anger at Jaskier but it wasn’t. Jaskier hadn’t done anything wrong. Geralt deserved every fucking thing Jaskier had said to him. No. Geralt was furious with himself. He’d seen the sorrow in Ciri’s face when he’d driven her home that day. The despair in her face as her family fell apart around her. Again. Because of Geralt.

Yenn had tried calling him. Hell, she’d turned up at his house and threatened to burn it down just to get him to talk to her. He’d escaped her by packing a bag and moving in with Eskel. His other brother had told him he was a fucking idiot, but he’d let Geralt stay. And Geralt didn’t fucking understand it. Because he didn’t deserve anyone’s kindness.

“Geralt?” Eskel’s voice broke through Geralt’s thoughts. “Me and Lambert are heading to the Sorceresses Lodge. You coming?”

Like fuck he was, Geralt thought. Yennefer and Triss were there. They’d eat him alive for what he’d done to Jaskier. And by extension Ciri. “I’ll see you later.” He grunted, pushing past Lambert.

The ring box Geralt had been carrying around for over a month weighed heavy in his pocket as he started the motorcycle. He heard Eskel, or maybe Lambert, shout something but he ignored it. He didn’t deserve their compassion. Not when he’d destroyed the only good fucking thing in his life. His family.

.......

“What you working on?” Ciri’s excited voice broken Jaskier’s silent musing. He quickly closed the notebook on his lap and sent Ciri a dazzling smile as he tucked it under the cover at his side. Usually he was more than happy to provide an impromptu performance of his new songs to Ciri but this wasn’t something he wanted Ciri to hear. To be honest, he didn’t think it was something he wanted anyone to hear.

“Just trying to get the lyrics to work.” Jaskier replied evasively. Ciri shrugged, jumping up onto the left side of the hospital bed to give Jaskier a half hug. Jaskier grinned, returning the hug as best he could one sided.

His left hand had lost the slight shake he’d had since waking in the hospital. Jaskier thought it might have something to do with writing lyrics in the new notebook Ciri had got him. He’d found it difficult at first, writing with his left hand, and his handwriting was no where near as precise as it was with his right hand. But the more he wrote, the steadier his hand became and the less awkward the pen became in his hand.

“Ready to get out of here?” Yennefer asked and Jaskier gave her a grin in answer.

“can’t wait.” Jaskier replied as Yennefer dropped a bag on his hospital bed. 

“We had to buy you sweat pants, Jask.” Ciri announced grinning and Jaskier let out a groan at that. The nurses had told him he couldn’t wear anything that would aggravate his knee, which was everything in his wardrobe as to turned out.

“Please at least tell me they’re at least fashionable.” Jaskier moaned and Yennefer rolled her eyes.

“I bought them, of course they are.” The first time Yenn had visited after Jaskier’s appointment with Tissaia de Vries he’d given her a hug, much to the other woman’s surprise. He’d met with Tissaia again before Doctor Priscilla would clear him to go home and he’d been surprised at how much the session had helped ease some of the tension he’d been carrying around since being kidnapped from his studio. He was still a long way off from recovered. He still woke every other night from nightmares and distant memories of excruciating pain. But he found he could smile easier now, laugh even.

He hadn’t yet discussed what happened in his sessions yet, preferring to skirt around the issue. He had talked a bit about Geralt but that was still a very painful subject. He’d taken Vesemir’s words to heart, knowing Geralt would need time to see sense. But the more time that went past without seeing the white haired man, the more Jaskier’s heart broke a little. The only consolation being Ciri. She hadn’t abandoned him and by the looks of it had no intention of doing so.

“You need a hand?” Yennefer asked, nodding to the bag of clothes and Jaskier shook his head. If he was going home then he had to start doing these things for himself. 

“I’ll be ok, if you can give me 5 minutes.”

Yennefer nodded. “Come on Ciri.” Ciri nodded, giving Jaskier a bright smile before following Yennefer out of the room.

Jaskier sighed for a moment before shifting to the side of the bed. His physiotherapist said he was making good progress. The right knee was healing well and while it would still be a good 2 months before Jaskier could even think about putting weight on it, he’d was a lot more mobile than he had been at the start of all this. The crutches he’d been using were awkward and Jaskier hadn’t actually been allowed to use them for long periods of time, the doctors kept telling him he needed rest, but actually being able to move (albeit still in some considerable pain) was so much better.

His right hand was another story and as Jaskier pulled the black jogger’s Yennefer had bought him out he tried to ignore the fact his right hand still refused to do the most basic actions. The physiotherapist kept telling him there was no rush. Most of the bones in his hand had been broken after all and the bones in the hand being as delicate as they were, it would take time for them to heal. But every time Jaskier tried to do the simplest exercises he was further and further disappointed. The fingers were so stiff, he couldn’t even begin to move them.

Jaskier struggled into the pants, wincing in pain as his right knee brushed against the fabric. It was still wrapped tightly in a bandage. He’d have to change it daily but because of the state of his hand (encased in a hospital grade Velcro bandage which was a lot easier to work with) he couldn’t. So Yennefer and Triss had been given a demonstration, as well as Ciri who had insisted on sitting in on the lesson. Jaskier had been surprised to learn Yennefer and Triss would be moving in with them. Not because he didn’t appreciate it. He was more than grateful and made a mental note to buy the two women something to say thank you. No it was because Geralt wasn’t at home. Ciri said that Geralt had moved in with Eskel for a bit and Jaskier had felt a stab of pain in his heart at that. It was just another nail in the coffin, implying Geralt wasn’t actually ever coming back to him.

As Jaskier carefully pulled the hospital gown over his head, he tried not to wince at the state of his torso. The bruising had gone down from the back they’d been originally, but they were still nasty shades of purple and blue. It would still be a good month until his ribs were healed and as if to prove that fact as he turned slightly to fast to pick up his shirt he found himself gasping a little in pain. The bullet wound on his side had had the stitching taken out yesterday, a painful process which Jaskier had not enjoyed in the slightest. It was still a dark red in colour but the Doctor assured him that was normal with wounds like that and that it was healing nicely. They still insisted on making him wear a press on bandage against it and that had been added to the large prescription that Jaskier had to collect before leaving the hospital.

At least, Jaskier thought as he buttoned up his shirt one handed and fuck that was a difficult thing to do, the bruises on his face had faded. His split lip was barely noticeable now and the dark bruising on his face had faded to a yellowish green. With a bit of make-up, Jaskier thought he might be able to cover it completely.

As Jaskier fastened the final button, he smiled happily. The shirt was a bright red, one of his favourite’s and he thought that was probably why Ciri had chosen it. While the joggers where in no way his style, they were still fashionable enough for Jaskier to accept the necessity of wearing them. He felt more like himself than he had since waking up and he honestly couldn’t wait to get home. Maybe when he got home everything would go back to normal.

Except it wouldn’t. Because Geralt wasn’t there. And with that sobering thought, Jaskier felt a swell of sorrow build up causing his eyes burn in response. Angrily, Jaskier rubbed at the unshod tears. He refused to be upset. He wouldn’t cry. This was meant to be a happy occasion. He could finally go home. And while the word felt bitter on his tongue at the thought of home without Geralt, Jaskier wouldn’t let that spoil it. Because Ciri had looked so happy about him coming home.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Jaskier called for Ciri and Yennefer to come back in. “Picked up your prescription while we were waiting.” Yennefer stated, motioning to the small bag she was carrying filled with Jaskier’s pain medication and spare bandages.

“Thanks.” Jaskier said. He hadn’t been looking forward to standing in a queue waiting for it to be ready.

Yennefer nodded. “Triss sends her apology’s. We needed to reopen the bar at some point and I refuse to leave that place unsupervised.” Yennefer said and Jaskier chuckled. He well knew that Yennefer was a control freak when it came to her business.

“No need to apologise, you’ve both already done plenty.” Jaskier replied and Yennefer hummed.

It took another hours before all the paperwork was in place and the longer it went on the more Jaskier felt himself getting nervous. Ciri had been talking none stop but Jaskier had found himself drifting out of the conversation a little while ago. Yennefer was watching him with concern but Jaskier just shook his head. It was stupid, really. It wasn’t like he wanted to spend another minute in this hospital. But that didn’t stop him feeling apprehensive about going home. Part of him wondered if that was because he knew Geralt wouldn’t be there.

......

‘I’ll push.” Ciri announced as Jaskier got sited in the wheelchair to take him out of the hospital. He’d argued against it, saying he could walk that far but the nurses had refused saying if he fell on hospital property it was in theory their fault.

“You sure?’ Jaskier asked, turning his head back to Ciri and she nodded earnestly. Yennefer just shrugged, grabbing the bags of Jaskier’s belongings. It was surprising how much stuff a person could accumulate when they’d been stuck in hospital for 3 weeks.

“You’re not that heavy, Jask.” Ciri pointed out. She felt a bit of pride when Jaskier laughed in response. She’d noticed he’d gone quiet while waiting to be released but when Yennefer hadn’t made a fuss, Ciri had decided she wouldn’t either.

The wheelchair was actually a lot more difficult to control than Ciri had originally thought and she almost rammed Jaskier into a wall on more than one occasion. At one point they’d gone down the hallway a bit too fast and almost collided with a group of trainee Doctor’s. Jaskier and Ciri had burst out laughing at that instant and even Yennefer had smiled (after sending a warning glare at the people they’d almost run over to not say a word to reprimand the pair).

Yennefer told them to stay put while she brought her car to the entrance. When she pulled up, Ciri went to help Jaskier stand but he shook his head. “I’ll manage.” Ciri wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to manage, that they could help but Yennefer shook her head to stop her.

Ciri watched with no small amount of anticipation as Jaskier pulled himself to his feet, wobbling slightly as his right leg hung in mid air. He managed to hop the two paces to the car and almost collapsed into the back seat. Ciri frowned in worry at the crease of pain on Jaskier’s face until he glanced up at her and gave her a reassuring smile.

“I’ll take this back.” Ciri announced, pushing the wheelchair back into reception before jumping into the back with Jaskier.

“You can sit in the front if you want.” Jaskier said, a little breathless from the exertion of getting from the hospital room to the car, it was the furthest he’d gone since waking up in the hospital.

“I know.” Ciri announced brightly. She caught Yennefer’s eye in the mirror and saw the pleased smile Yennefer gave her.

The ride back to Kaer Mohen was a long one. Within the first 5 minutes, Ciri could already tell Jaskier was in pain. He’d wrapped his injured right arm around his middle and his left hand was hanging onto the door handle in a white knuckled grip.

Ciri kept a steady stream of conversation going as Yennefer drove as carefully as she could. When Jaskier finally drifted to sleep a half hour from home, Ciri and Yennefer both sighed in relief. 

“He’s pushing himself too much.” Ciri said quietly, mindful that she didn’t wake Jaskier up. He looked a lot more peaceful in sleep but he was still frowning slightly as if in pain.

“I know.” Yennefer replied, “Bloody idiot.”

......

When they finally pulled up outside the small cottage, Ciri gently shook Jaskier’s shoulder to wake him up. Jaskier startled a little, blue eyes wide in alarm before he realised where he was. “We’re home.” Ciri said and Jaskier felt guilt pull at him as he saw the worried look on Ciri’s face.

“Excellent.” Jaskier grinned back, pleased when Ciri returned the smile. 

Yennefer passed Jaskier the crutch and gave him a hand in getting out of the car. Getting out turned out to be a lot more difficult than getting in, his left knee almost buckling and sending him sprawling as he stood. Yennefer’s stead prescience at his side stopped that disaster from occurring.

Jaskier collapsed onto the armchair in relief when he’d finally hobbled through the threshold. Navigating the pebbled path to the front door had been a bastard, his crutch refusing to stay under him so he couldn’t keep his balance. Yennefer had had to help keep him stable as Jaskier hobbled forward.

“I was thinking pizza for tea?” Ciri announced, worry clear on her face at the pained look on Jaskier’s face.

Jaskier went to say he wasn’t hungry but Yennefer nodded in agreement, going to help Ciri in putting the food in the oven. When Jaskier went to stand to help, Yennefer sent him a glare that had him quickly lowering back down.

Ciri pushed a stool over to Jaskier so he could put his right knee on it. The Doctor’s having told him to keep it elevated. In truth, the car ride home had taken it out of him. It seemed like every small movement of the car had jostled his aching body more and more to the point that when Yennefer had finally pulled up Jaskier felt like he’d never be able to move again.

As Ciri and Yennefer bustled around the kitchen, Jaskier felt his heart start to clench painfully. It looked so normal, like any other day. Except Geralt wasn’t here.

Jaskier managed 3 slices before his stomach clenched painfully, reminding him that he’d spent the last 3 weeks in the hospital eating barely anything. “You’re not hungry?” Ciri asked worriedly.

“No, just tired.” Jaskier said. He didn’t have the energy left to try and reassure the teenager when his voice came out breathless. He could feel his eyes trying to close and it was an increasing effort to keep them open.

“Take these and then get to bed then.” Yennefer stated, placing the painkillers Jaskier had been prescribed into his hand. Jaskier dutifully took them, then offered Ciri a hug before he headed to bed. He was a little surprised when Yennefer gave him a quick hug as well before letting him go.

It took longer than Jaskier wanted for him to brush his teeth and get changed for bed. But the time he laid into the king sized bed, Jaskier could felt his body already drifting to sleep. As he closed his eyes, the last thing he remembered thinking was how empty it felt without Geralt’s solid warm presence.


	19. Chapter 19

Jaskier woke up with a start and a gasp. His heart felt like it was trying to jump out of his chest and it took far too long for Jaskier to calm himself down. Lifting his left hand to wipe back his sweaty hair, Jaskier saw it shaking slightly. jaskier took a steadying breath, closing his eyes and counting his breathing out as Tissaia de Vries had suggested when he’d admitted he woke up nearly nightly from nightmares.

Slowly the images of a dingy warehouse floor and distant burning pain disappeared and Jaskier shagged back against the headboard. He closed his eyes, well aware that he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep tonight. Glancing at Geralt’s alarm clock on the side, Jaskier sighed a little. 3 in the morning. Well, it could be worse he thought as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Silently, Jaskier made his way to the living room, not wanting to wake anyone. He could hear light snoring coming from Ciri’s closed bedroom door and soft breathing from the room Yennefer had taken over. Yennefer had said she and Triss would take shifts staying with him as they only had the one guest bedroom. Jaskier hated that they had to leave their own lives to look after him, even as he appreciated it.

As he slowly descended the stairs, which took forever to do and nearly had Jaskier overbalancing himself far too many times, Jaskier thought of what he could do to say thank you. He took a seat in the same arm chair as yesterday, plopping his injured leg onto the stool and grabbed his laptop which had been sitting on the table. 15 minutes later he’d ordered the biggest bunch of flowers he could find and ordered them to be delivered to the Sorceresses Lodge. It was no where near enough but it was the best Jaskier could do for the time being.

Jaskier closed his eyes for a second before flashing them open in an instant. Memories of hands grabbing him and pulling him away from escape crawled over him and Jaskier let out a shaky breath. He’d switched on the side lamp and the living room was now lit with a warm kind glow. He was safe, Jaskier kept thinking. He was home. Except was it really home without Geralt.

Deciding he needed to take his mind off what the tormenting memories and thoughts, Jaskier pulled out the notebook he’d been using in the hospital. It was in the bag by the front door so while Jaskier was up he decided to make himself a hot chocolate. By the time he collapsed back onto the armchair he was breathless. 

Slowly, he flicked though the pages he’d written. Jaskier was primarily a musician but his degree in literature also made Jaskier a talented poet. A lot of the words he’d written drifted into poetry and Jaskier poised his pen over one particular section. Some of the words and rhymes just didn’t sound right in Jaskier’s head so he spent a little while perfecting his poetry.

By the time the sun started to raise, Jaskier had perfected a particular piece of poetry and was rather pleased with himself. The subject matter wasn’t entirely obvious. Anyone who didn’t know Jaskier would never guess the poem had been written about his kidnapping experience. But it was good, if Jaskier did say so himself. He’d considered writing his musings into lyrics but when the first tunes had appeared in his mind and he realised his broken hand wouldn’t allow him to play that tune on his guitar, Jaskier had quickly banished that idea. Poetry would have to do for now.

.....

When Yennefer got into the kitchen that morning, she nearly jumped in surprise. The table was set for 3, a good selection of jams, butter and syrup covering the table. And Jaskier was sitting on one of the kitchen bar stools, left hand awkwardly holding a spatula. “The first batch came about a bit deformed but I think there still edible.” He announced, motioning to a plate of pancakes.

Ciri, seemingly woken by the smell of home cooking, appeared at the door. She blinked confused for a moment before grinning broadly. “Pancakes.” She ran over to Jaskier’s, giving him a quick hug, “Thanks Jask.”

“Not a problem.” Jaskier grinned, placing the next finished pancake onto a plate. “Help yourself.” 

Yennefer let Ciri grab hers before coming up to stand next to Jaskier. He had bags under his eyes and Yennefer guessed he hadn’t slept much, but he was smiling and the smile reached his eyes. “You ok?” She asked in a no nonsense tone.

“Couldn’t be better.” Jaskier grinned, happily and Yennefer hummed in agreement.

“I was going to go back into class today.” Ciri announced as the three sat at the table, eating Jaskier’s pancakes. “Dara mentioned he missed me and I don’t really want to get any further behind. Dara’s been sending me notes but his writings terrible.” Ciri said around a mouthful of pancakes. 

“That sounds good.” Jaskier grinned in response. “Get back to a bit of normality.”

“Exactly.” Ciri agreed and Yennefer felt herself growl in her head. She didn’t want Ciri going back to College, even though she knew it was safe. Eskel had sent her a quick text yesterday to let her know the last of the Nilfgaardian’s were gone. But still, she was still worried that someone would try to attack Ciri.

“Yenn?” As Ciri and Jaskier both looked at her she cursed silently. They worse identical puppy dog eyes as if they’d planned this conversation together.

“Fine.” She growled, grabbing her phone. “But I’m getting Vesemir to put Witcher’s on the school to keep an eye on you.” Yennefer didn’t miss the eye roll Ciri gave her or flinch Jaskier gave. Yennefer wondered how much Jaskier actually knew about the Witcher’s, but slowly realised he probably didn’t know anything. She’d tried to talk to him a bit about it a few years ago and he’d told her he didn’t need to hear it from her. Yenn could understand that. “But one of you can tell Geralt.” And that was a mistake to say as the spark in Jaskier’s eyes was quickly replaced by sadness at the mention of Geralt.

“I’ll call him.” Ciri announced, grabbing her phone from the side and leaving Jaskier and Yennefer alone in the room.

“You seriously think this is a good idea?” Yennefer asked and Jaskier turned his attention from the form he’d been playing with to face Geralt.

“Yes, I do actually.” jaskier replied. “It’ll be good for her. A bit of normalcy.” Yenn hummed. She didn’t agree but the she knew how protective she and Geralt both where of Ciri. Jaskier had always been able to consider what was best for Ciri without actually being overcome with a need to protect the girl to the point of smothering.

“I better go and make sure Geralt says yes then.” She said, leaving Jaskier alone at the table.

.....

“No.” Geralt growled over the phone.

“Come on Ciri.” Ciri’s voice appeared and Geralt growled again. She was using the voice he could never say no to but he had to. He couldn’t risk Ciri being hurt. What if they hadn’t gotten all the Nilfgaardian’s. What if one of them decided to hurt Ciri as revenge.

There were voices on the phone and the next thing Yennefer’s voice appeared over the line. “She’s going to class.” Yennefer said and Geralt growled again. How the fuck had Ciri managed to convince Yenn that it was ok to go.

“It’s dangerous.” 

“No it isn’t.” Yennefer retorted. “Eskel said you lot had taken care of the rest of the Nilfgaardian’s and you can put some of the Witcher’s at the school incognito to keep an eye on her.”

“No Yenn.” Geralt refused and Yenn sighed over the phone.

“She needs to get back to a normal life Geralt. You can’t keep her hidden away forever. However much we both try.” Geralt growled because he knew Yenn was right. As much as hated it.

“Fine. But I’m getting security to keep an eye on her.” 

“Agreed.” Yennefer said and hung up.

.....

“You sure you’ll be fine?” Yennefer asked as she and Ciri pulled on their jackets.

“Yes.” Jaskier said, adding an eye roll in response. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“What like make breakfast.” Yennefer retorted and Jaskier blushed a little. It had been a spur of the moment decision Jaskier had made at 6:00 that morning. It had taken then next 2 hours before Yenn and Ciri got out of bed and a lot of quiet swearing for him to put it all together. But it had been nice. To not feel so bloody useless, even if it had left him feeling like he needed a good nap. But that could be blamed by the fact he’d been up for hours.

“Come on Yenn, I don’t want to be late for afternoon classes.” Ciri shouted from the doorway. By the time the 3 had showered and dressed (Yennefer and Ciri both refusing to leave Jaskier alone in the house while he showered) and cleared up after breakfast it had been too late for Ciri to make her morning classes.

“I can get Triss to come over.” Yennefer continued, ignoring Ciri for a moment.

Jaskier rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Honestly, I’ll be fine. I’m just gong to spend the afternoon sleeping.” Yennefer grumbled before slowly nodding her head and following Ciri out of the house.

.....

Geralt stood outside the cottage for a few moments, considering. He’d only come here for a change of clothes so why was it so fucking hard to go inside. Probably because it wasn’t his home anymore. Not now he had ruined everything with Jaskier.

He’d been less than impressed by Ciri going into College today but he had to agree with Yennefer. And Lamber and Cohen had assured him they’d keep a close eye on her for him. She was safe.

Geralt looked back at his motorbike, considering if he could just leave again. He didn’t really need a change of clothes, did he. Then again, he thought with a grimace. He’d spent all day yesterday driving his motorbike and when he’d finally returned to Lambert’s place his clothes had been ins desperate need of a wash. In fact, Lambert had cursed him for an idiot and told him leaving the blood on his shirt alone all day was a stupid bloody idea and that he’d never get it out. Thus needing spare clothes. He’d only brought the 2 sets to Geralt and he was wearing the spare.

Cursing, Geralt pulled out the keys and opened the front door.

As he stepped inside and tugged off his leather jacket a small voice said “Geralt,”. And the white haired witch froze.

Jaskier was standing in the hallway, leaning on a crutch and looking at him as if he’d seen a ghost.

Fuck.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this chapter isn’t too confusing, I’ve switched between two different POV’s throughout the same scene so I hope it makes sense :)

“Geralt, please don’t leave.” Jaskier broken voice made Geralt pause with his hand on the handle. “Please Geralt. I just...I just want to talk.” Jaskier pleaded and Geralt felt his heart break a little. If he turned around he was sure he would see tears in Jaskier’s expressive blue eyes. “Please.”

As Geralt took his hand off the door handle, Jaskier sighed out a breath of relief. When he’d seen Geralt, he’d felt his heart jump in his throat. The man looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept in days. When Geralt had turned to leave, Jaskier had felt his heart break and he found himself begging for the white haired man to stay. 

“Shall we sit?” jaskier asked, when Geralt made no move to speak or move, Jaskier continued, “It’s just I can’t really stand for too long. Not much balance you see.” Jaskier gave a nervous self-deprecating laugh but Geralt only hummed in response. He wouldn’t lift his eyes to meet Jaskier’s eyes and Jaskier felt his heart clench painfully. He’d ruined this and no he had to fix it. “Tea?” Jaskier asked, ignoring the pain the way his left leg was trembling slightly. He’d done too much that day already, he knew and his body was starting to rebel. Jaskier ignored it though, he didn’t want Geralt to worry about him. He didn’t deserve Geralt’s worry.

“I’ll get it.” Geralt said, aware of how rough his voice sounded. He could see Jaskier was struggling to stand with the way the musician’s left arm kept readjusting the crutch he was holding on.

“Ok.” Jaskier breathed. Geralt tried to hold the worry off his face as he watched Jaskier hop his way to the armchair. His movements were jerky, lacking the brunettes usual grace. Geralt felt himself frown as he turned to the kitchen, pulling out two brightly coloured mugs and switching on the kettle. As he made the tea mechanically, he tried to hold back his surprise. No one had told him Jaskier was coming home. No one. But then, why would they. Geralt had given up the right to know how Jaskier was when he’d broken their family apart.

Jaskier remained quiet as kept his eyes trained to the floor. He could hear Geralt in the kitchen but he didn’t think he deserved to look at the man he had hurt. When a mug was placed on the table in front of him, Jaskier jumped a little.

“How are you?” Jaskier asked, nervousness making him feel the need to fill the silence. Geralt hummed and Jaskier felt his shoulders deflate. “I heard you were staying with Lambert.” Another hum. “Ciri went to college this morning, I hope that it was ok but she seemed to happy and I thought maybe it would give her a bit of normalcy.” Jaskier rambled. 

‘It was your idea.” Geralt’s blazing amber eyes flicked up to Jaskier and the musician flinched back.

“Well, no. It was Ciri’s idea but I thought...I thought it was ok...and Yenn agreed...Eventually.” jaskier stammered. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have presumed. I should have left it to you. I’m sorry.” Jaskier trailed off, causing Geralt to frown, what was Jaskier apologising for. He was right to let Ciri go to College, to get back to normal. Yenn would never have agreed if she’d thought it was wrong.

“You don’t need to apologise.” Geralt grunted, earning a surprised glance from Jaskier. Geralt growled under his breath. He wanted to see the blue eyes but Jaskier kept ducking his head refusing to look at Geralt.

“You don’t mind.” Jaskier breathed and Geralt grunted.

“No. You’re right. She needs normalcy.” Jaskier breathed an oh at this. He was confused now. He’d expected anger from Geralt, not this. Not this, almost normal conversation.

“Geralt...I’m sorry for what I said. I never should have told you to leave.” Jaskier cursed the tears in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it. I was just so...fuck...I don’t know how to put it.” Jaskier nearly jumped when Geralt put a large hand on his uninsured knee.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Geralt murmured, lifting a hand to wipe the tears coming from Jaskier’s face. He was pleased to note the bruises were nearly faded now. Jaskier looked better for it. ‘If anyone should apologise I should.”

“You don’t need to.” Jaskier interrupted and Geralt’s frown deepened.

“Of course I fucking do.” Geralt growled. “I lied to you. I insulted you.” Geralt winced at the memory of what he;d said to Jaskier. “I had no right to call you broken.”

“I am broken.” Jaskier’s voice filtered to Geralt and Geralt lifted his head to meet the musician’s eyes. A small tear made it’s way down Jaskier’s face and geralt gently wiped it off. “You were right Geralt. I am broken and I am so so fucking sorry.” Jaskier’s shoulders started to shake then as tears ran down his face.

Geralt did the one thing he could and wrapped Jaskier into a hug. Jaskier’s left hand clutched at Geralt’s front as he sobbed into the larger man’s shoulder. Geralt said nothing, just held Jaskier as he cried.

Eventually, the tears stopped but Jaskier made no move to get out of Geralt’s hug. It was selfish, Geralt knew, to hug Jaskier when geralt had been the one to cause this. He had no right. But with his arms wrapped tightly around Jaskier’s slimmer frame it felt right somehow. “I’m sorry.” jaskier muttered into Geralt’s shoulder and Geralt tightened his grip on Jaskier.

“Stop fucking apologising.” Geralt growled. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

“Of course I do.” Jaskier leaned out of Geralt’s arms, tear stained face meeting Geralt’s bright amber eyes. “I broke everything.” Jaskier’s voice broke a little at this. “I ruined everything.”

Geralt just stared at Jaskier in shock. The other man was nearly the same height as Geralt himself and while slim Jaskier had defined muscles under his shirt. Jaskier, who usually held himself with full confidence, was now curled towards looking smaller than Geralt had ever imagined he could possible be. “Jaskier, you didn’t break anything.” Geralt replied and Jaskier looked up at him, confusion in his bright blue eyes. “If anyone ruined this it was me.”

“I...I don’t understand.” It was Geralt’s turn to turn his face away.

“I lied to you for 6 years Jaskier.” Geralt replied, preparing himself for the anger that would follow the reminder of Geralt’s betrayal. But it never came. Instead, Jaskier’s arms came around Geralt’s shoulder’s. He gently pulled Geralt back to facing him and brought their foreheads together.

“Listen to me, Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice had lost the tearful edge to it now, his bright cornflower blue eyes staring into what seemed like Geralt’s should. Geralt leant his forehead further onto Jaskier’s own. “I forgive you.” Geralt tried to back away, refusing to believe it but Jaskier’s hand held a firm grip in Geralt’s hair, making sure Geralt didn’t move. “I forgive you because I love you.” Jaskier replied.

“But I lied.” Geralt feebly argued.

“Yes you did.” Jaskier replied matter of factly. “And I won’t deny it will take a while for me to trust you fully again.” geralt felt his heart clench painfully at that. “But I forgive you, Geralt. I forgive you and I still love you. I...I don’t want this to be the end.” Jaskier stammered and Geralt couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

As Geralt’s silence extended, Jaskier felt his heart clench and he slowly started to release his hold on Geralt’s hair. He’d been stupid to think thy could got back to normal. Except as he lessened his hold on Geralt’s hair, Geralt suddenly pulled him close again.

Geralt felt Jaskier release his grip and that unfroze him from his unbelieving frozen mind. Without thinking, Geralt placed his hand on Jaskier’s neck and pulled the younger man into a kiss. As they kissed, Geralt felt Jaskier start to melt into it. “I love you.” The Witcher growled and Jaskier giggled against his lips. 

Jaskier let Geralt pull him into the kiss, heart feeling lighter than it had done in too long. He felt his body melting against Geralt and while he knew it was going to be a bitch to get up off the floor, Jaskier didn’t care. He wanted to be closer to Geralt and the distance created by Geralt kneeling on the floor and Jaskier bending downwards on the armchair was far too much.

“Hold on.” Geralt murmured, pulling away and smiling at Jaskier’s undignified whine. “I don’t think the floor’s the most comfortable spot.” 

“Can’t disagree there.” Jaskier agreed, still not moving his hand from where it was tangled in Geralt’s hair. Geralt smiled against Jaskier lips, before standing. He let his head bend down far enough to maintain the contact with Jaskier’s forehead.

“Sofa?” Geralt asked questioningly and Jaskier nodded his agreement.

Jaskier went to pull himself into a standing position but before he’d even gotten himself halfway up, Geralt had wrapped his arms underneath Jaskier’s legs and lifted him up. “Fuck Geralt, caveman.” Jaskier laughed softly, as he wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck. Geralt just hummed, gently placing Jaskier onto the sofa, careful of his injuries.

“Better?” Geralt asked as he sat down beside Jaskier and the younger man snuggled up close to Geralt’s side. Geralt placed a hand over his shoulder as Jaskier dropped his head into the crook of Geralt’s neck. Geralt dropped his own head against Jaskier and felt a peaceful thill in his heart.

“Better.” Jaskier agreed.

.......

“Who are the Witcher’s?” They’d been sat quietly cuddling for nearly an hour before Jaskier finally spoke. He lifted his head to look at Geralt’s amber eyes, not moving from his position of using Geralt as a humane teddy bear.

Geralt didn’t speak for a long enough for Jaskier to start getting worried that Geralt wouldn’t actually answer him. But after nearly 5 minutes f silence Geralt started to speak.

“The Witcher’s are, we are a gang based in London.” Geralt replied. Jaskier hummed as if to encourage him to continue speaking. “I run it. With Eskel and Lambert.”

“Not Vesemir?” Jaskier asked and Geralt had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at Jaskier’s interruption. Jaskier could never resist the chance to ask questions.

“No, Vesemir is involved but not as heavily as the rest of us.” Geralt smiled in fondness. The old man might not run the Witcher’s but he was the person Geralt, Eskel and Lambert all went to when they had a problem they couldn’t love themselves. “We created the Witcher’s in a sort of misguided way of helping people.” Geralt couldn’t help the low laugh that came out at that. They’d been idiots, hot headed idiots when they’d thought of the Witcher’s, in fairness Lambert still was a note he added idiot. Believing they were the only people who could help the little guy. Not the police. Not anyone else. And in some way, Geralt still believed they were. “The legal system didn’t help certain people. People they deemed to be...to poor to help.” When Jaskier said nothing, Geralt felt emboldened to continue. “It started off small at first. We just wanted to stop the gangs from beating up people who couldn’t fight back.” Geralt remembered the first man they’d help. The drug addict they’d saved from a beating that had started the idea off. “And then we tried to keep the drugs off the street. Save a few kids from getting hooked. And well, the only way to do that was to get rid of the other gangs. So we did.” 

“So you help people?” Jaskier asked and Geralt shrugged.

“In a way.” Geralt replied because they did. They kept the drugs off the street and kept the gangs that attacked innocent people away from London. But the Witcher’s were in no way innocent. “We do illegal shit.” Geralt replied. At some point during him talking, Jaskier had moved from his place leaning against Geralt to the other side of the sofa so he was looking directly at Geralt. “I mean, dealing with the gangs involved shit...I mean I’ve hurt people, Jask. Killed people.” Geralt admitted. He didn’t enjoy it. He hated it in fact. But it was a fact of their life. 

“Do you like it?”

“What?” Geralt asked, confused by the question.

“Hurt...hurting people.” Jaskier stammered.

“No. I hate it. I wish we didn’t have to do it.” Geralt answered and Jaskier seemed to breath a little sigh of relief.

‘And how do you get your money?” Jaskier asked, blushing slightly. “I mean you never seem to be lacking.” Geralt nodded, it was a fair question. And Jaskier deserved the whole truth.

“We ship illegal products and sell them on.” Geralt answered. “But never drugs. Never anything that would hurt people.” He could see he needed to elaborate a bit so he continued, “Alcohol, cigarettes. That sort of thing. We do it illegally so we don’t have to pay the tax on it. We get a good profit from it.” Jaskier nodded in response.

“I don’t know how to take this.” Jaskier said honestly, left hand shaking a little and Geralt took it in his hand, gently placing a kiss on it.

“I’m still the same person you’ve known for 6 years. Nothing’s changed. You just now know what I do for a living.”

“Not property.” Jaskier smiled shakily and ok, they were laughing about the lie now. That must be progress, Geralt thought. 

“No, not property.” Geralt let out a small breath of relief as Jaskier nodded, and leant back into Geralt’s side.

“I’m not going to lie, I...I don’t know if I agree with what you do.” Jaskier said, left hand playing with a bit of lose thread on Geralt’s shirt. “But...I understand why you do it. You want to help people and I...I can accept that.” And Geralt could live with that, he realised. 

“You’re not going to leave?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier turned his face to meet Geralt’s, kissing him gently in answer. “No Geralt. I’m not going to leave you. I love you.” 

“I love you too Jask.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got away from me a little and went a different direction than originally planned. Hope you all enjoy.

“How was school, kiddo?” Cohen asked brightly as Ciri jumped into the back of Lambert’s car.

Ciri rolled her eyes, “I’m not a kid anymore Cohen.”

“Course you are.” Lambert replied, giving the teenager a wink in the rear view mirror. “You’re way too small to not be.”

“That’s because I’m surrounded by giants.” Ciri replied, laughing at the smile Cohen and Lambert gave her. It was true, all the men in her family were built like brick houses (except Jaskier).

“Keep eating your greens and you can get muscles like these then, kid.” Lambert laughed and Ciri just rolled her eyes.

“It was good.” Ciri replied, “It was good to see everyone again.” Lambert and Cohen hummed in agreement. 

“Glad to hear someone had fun.” Lambert laughed and Ciri rolled her eyes.

“I don’t need a babysitter you know.” Ciri replied. Yennefer had warned her about Lambert and Cohen keeping an eye on the College while Ciri was there and the teenager had rolled her eyes. She knew it was the only reason Geralt had agreed to let her go in but still. At least they’d kept it low key and no one had actually noticed. It had also helped them being here as Yennefer had texted to say she couldn’t come and pick her up, problem with a supplier at the Socersses Lodge apparently. 

“How’s Geralt doing?” Ciri asked and Lambert frowned a little.

“He’s ok.” He replied and Ciri glared at the back of his head. He knew Geralt wasn’t ok, the fact he hadn’t been home in days proved that much.

“Think the kids caught you out there.” Cohen laughed, seeing the glare on Ciri’s face.

“He’ll be ok Ciri. You don’t need to worry about him.” Lambert assured her.

“Anything interesting happen today?” Cohen asked, seeing Ciri about to open her mouth and argue. Ciri glared at the man but accepted the change in subject. She didn’t really want an argument with Lambert and she knew between the both of their hot headed tempers the argument wouldn’t end well. “You know Lambert asked Triss out on a date.”

Lambert choked and sent Cohen a glare from the drivers seat. “I bet Triss loved that.” Ciri laughed, making Lambert groan.

“Don’t gang up on me.” Lambert growled and Ciri and Cohen laughed.

“I think you might need to learn some table manners if you’re taking Triss out.” Ciri continued.

“Shut up.” Lambert growled, causing Cohen and Ciri to laugh more.

.....

As Lambert pulled up outside Ciri’s house, she let out a little gasp of surprise. Geralt’s motorcycle was sitting in it’s usual place outside the gate leading up to the house. “What’s he doing here?” Lambert asked out loud but Ciri didn’t listen. Grabbing her bag she shouted a goodbye to the two Witcher’s and ran up the path.

If Geralt was here, she didn’t want to miss seeing him if it was just a flying visit.

When she opened the door and barged into the living room, she couldn’t keep the beaming smile from her face. The TV was on and Geralt was sitting with the remote in hand, flicking through channels. Jaskier was curled up on Geralt’s side fast asleep, Geralt’s hand running through the musician’s hair.

“Geralt, you’re back.” Ciri shouted, dumping her bag by the front door. Jaskier shuffled by Geralt’s side and opened bleary blue eyes.

“There’s no need to shout Ciri.” Geralt chastised her, allowing Jaskier to move to better sitting position on the sofa.

“Sorry, Jask.” Ciri said.

“Not a problem, Ciri. It was probably past time I woke up.” He smiled and Ciri smiled back.

Geralt let out a hum of acknowledgement as Ciri took a seat on the armchair opposite the sofa. Jaskier had a slight crease of pain on his face as rubbed self-consciously at his side. “Did you take your painkillers this afternoon?” Ciri asked and Jaskier ducked his head sheepishly. “Yenn said you have to take them every 4 hours.”

“I forgot.” Jaskier replied with a small laugh at the haughty look Ciri sent him. “It’s not that painful anyhow.” Ciri snorted at that, not believing Jaskier for a second.

“We’re are they?” Geralt asked, getting to his feet and moving to the kitchen.

Jaskier went to argue but Ciri cut him off and answered, “Medicine cupboard.” Geralt hummed, returning a moment later with the pain killers and A glass of water.

“Thanks.” Jaskier took the cup and swallowed the pills down with a grimace.

Geralt hummed, taking a seat back next to Jaskier. “How was college then?” Jaskier asked, retuning a smile to his face and looking at Ciri.

“Good, Dara’s notes helped me get caught up and I didn’t really miss all that much.” Geralt grunted in approval, his arm moving to wrap around Jaskier’s side to pull the other man closer. Ciri felt her smile widen as she watched the show of affection.

“And how is Dara?” Jaskier asked and Ciri felt her face flush bright red. “Did he miss you?” 

“He’s good, yeah.” Geralt dropped his amber eyes to stare at Ciri and she felt her face heat up further.

“Why would Dara miss you?” Geralt growled and Jaskier laughed at his side.

“They’re friends, dear. Of course he’d miss her.” Geralt growled at Jaskier’s answer but accepted it.

Ciri watched Jaskier snuggle a bit closer into Geralt’s hold, feeling happier than she had for a while. Talking about school, Jaskier and geralt sat on the sofa snuggled close. It felt like it was a normal family day. “I was thinking Chinese for dinner.” Jaskier stated. “I’ve got some new recipes I wanted to try out.”

“No.” Geralt growled. “We’ll get it ordered in.”

“I thought you hated takeout food.” Jaskier argued. Ciri and Geralt shared a look, the latter resisting the urge to eye roll. Ciri had been thrilled at the pancake breakfast had given her and Yennefer that morning but she hadn’t failed to notice the pained lines on Jaskier’s face as he sat on the stool, trying to flip the pancakes with one hand. And his eyes were ringed with dark rings from lack of sleep. Ciri wasn’t an idiot, she knew he wasn’t sleeping well.

“I do.” Geralt growled. “But you and Ciri like it so we can have a treat.” Jaskier frowned going to argue that he was more than capable of cooking dinner when Ciri added.

“And I don’t think it’s a good idea to cut vegetables one handed and you know me and Geralt are a disaster in the kitchen.” Jaskier frowned at this, eyes drifting to his right hand which was currently sat curled on his lap. The swelling had gone down significantly from the first time Ciri had seen the broken hand but the bruising had travelled up the majority of Jaskier’s lower arm and Ciri winced every time she saw it. “We’ll get pre-chopped vegetables next time we go shopping and then you can cook for us.” Ciri added and Jaskier nodded to that.

“Oh, and I better call Yenn and Triss and let them know they don’t need to come round now.” Ciri shot up from her seat excitedly. Jaskier sent her a smile in thanks as Ciri walked out of the room, starting to phone Yennefer. Ciri knew Yennefer and Triss would be just as pleased as she was to see Jaskier and Geralt back together. Even though Yennefer would never admit to it.

......

“So, you and Geralt are ok now?” Ciri asked hesitantly as she and Jaskier sat on the sofa, waiting Geralt’s return with the promised take-out.

“Yes, we’re ok now.” Jaskier replied with a smile. He admitted to himself that the knowledge of the Witcher’s Geralt had shared with him that afternoon was still a lot to take in. Too much even. But he also admitted to himself that while that part of Geralt was frightening to Jaskier, he still loved the white haired man. Geralt was still the same man he’d fallen in love with 6 years ago. 

“Good.” Ciri announced, happily and Jaskier felt a weight lift of his chest. He’d been worried about what Ciri would think when she saw Geralt and Jaskier back together. If she would be mad, or confused. But the girl was taking it in her stride. “I’m glad we’re a family again.” Ciri said, eyes dropping to the floor for a moment and Jaskier felt his heart tighten a little.

“Ciri, you thought we weren’t a family anymore?” Jaskier hated the sad look that passed in her emerald eyes.

“I mean, if you and Geralt split up we aren’t are we and...and I didn’t want to lose either of you.” Ciri wiped angrily at a tear that fell down her cheek.

“Come here.” Jaskier said, motioning for Ciri to move further towards him. He wrapped the girl in an awkward hug, ignoring the spike of pain in his side as he twisted to hug her properly. “You would never have lost either of us.”

“But if you and Geralt broke up you wouldn’t have any reason to see me.” Ciri was crying properly now and Jaskier felt his hear break a little.

“Now, you listen to me Ciri.” Jaskier waited until he girls emerald tear-filled eyes lifted to meet his own blue ones. “You would never have lost me. I love you as much as I do Geralt and you’re my family. You’re my daughter.” Jaskier said, hoping he’d not overstepped the mark. He did feel like Ciri was his child, even if he’d only known the girl since she was 10. 

“Really, Jask?” Ciri asked, voice wet from the tears.

“Of course. I’ll be here for you as long as you want me here Ciri.” Ciri smiled at this and threw her arms around Jaskier, squeezing tightly. Jaskier squeezed back, ignoring the spike of pain in his broken hand as the fingers twitched against Ciri’s back. “You, me and Geralt are family. And even if Geralt and I break up, we’re both still here for you. I’m sorry you thought we would’ve be.”

When Geralt returned with the take-out, Ciri and Jaskier were still wrapped in a hug, the TV and programme forgotten. His quiet hum had both looking up. Ciri’s eyes were bright from crying and her cheeks wet. Geralt frowned but Jaskier’s gave him a look to say that everything was alright now so Geralt just hummed, moving to set the table for dinner.

....

“What was wrong with Ciri?” Geralt asked once Ciri had disappeared to her room for the night.

Jaskier lifted his head from where it was rested on Geralt’s side, a serious look passing over his face. “She thought she’d lose us both.” Jaskier replied and Geralt felt his heart constrict a little. “Don’t worry,” Jaskier said, stroking Geralt face softly, “I set her straight. Told her that we would never leave her.”

Geralt hummed, still feeling guilt fill him. When he’d moved in with Lambert he thought he’d been doing the right thing for Ciri, that the girl would be better off without him. He hadn’t even considered what she would think of him abandoning him, “Hey, don’t blame yourself.” Jaskier said, turning his bright blue eyes to Geralt’s. “She thought I’d abandon her if we broke up. She never said a thing about you leaving her.”

“But I did.” Geralt growled. “I left her on her own.”

“No you didn’t.” Jaskier pointed out. “You knew Ciri was ok because she was with Yenn. You never left her.” 

“Neither did you.” Geralt pointed out, seeing the guilt flash in Jaskier’s eyes.

“I wasn’t exactly there for her either.” Jaskier retorted. “I mean I still saw her but I wasn’t really there emotionally for her.” Jaskier sighed.

“It doesn’t matter, the main thing is we’re both here now.” Jaskier hummed his agreement, leaning further into Geralt’s side.

“I told her she was my daughter.” Jaskier suddenly announced and Geralt felt like his heart had stopped in shock at at that. “I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have.” Jaskier quickly said, guilt creeping on his face again. “I’m not trying to replace you. Or Duny. But I feel...I feel like she is you know...And it seemed to cheer her. She didn’t seem to mind.”

Geralt cut Jaskier’s rambling off with a kiss on the other man’s lips. “It’s fine, Jask.” Jaskier looked at him as if to say really and Geralt nodded. “She loves you as much as she does me. And I’m glad she has you.”

“I’m glad I have her as well. And you.” Jaskier murmured, smiling returning.

.......

Jaskier had started to fall asleep on Geralt again around 8 that night so Geralt had decided that it was time for bed. Jaskier hadn’t even tried to argue, testimant to how tired Jaskier really was. Geralt had offered to carry Jaskier to bed but the musician declined. “I need to try moving around eventually, Geralt. You can’t carry me everywhere.” Geralt didn’t agree with that but didn’t want to argue with Jaskier. He knew how independent Jaskier was and the fact the other man could barely move from one room to the other without difficulty was a great cause of annoyance for Jaskier.

As it was, Geralt hovered to the point of Jaskier almost snapping at him, as Jaskier hobbled up the stairs. Geralt’s heart was in his mouth the entire time he watched Jaskier climb the stairs with a tight grip on his crutch. Every time he hopped onto one, Geralt saw him wobble and went to catch him but Jaskier got his balance, making Geralt’s hand on his hip unneeded.

“Just give me 10 minutes, please.” Jaskier said, shooing Geralt out of their shared bedroom.

“I’ll be outside if you need me.” Jaskier rolled his eyes at this but nodded anyway.

As Geralt hovered outside the bedroom, trying to listen if Jaskier fell over or not he saw Ciri’s door open slightly. “Hey,”. the blonde haired teenager said a bit hesitantly. Geralt felt guilt wash over him at what Jaskier had told him and felt the need to pull the teenager into a hug.

“I’m sorry, Ciri.” Geralt settled for, eyes downcast onto the floor.

“Jask told you what I said?” Ciri asked and Geralt nodded. “It’s ok, Geralt. I know you wouldn’t leave me.” Ciri said, moving to Geralt and giving him a hug.

“I will never leave you again.” Geralt promised, returning the hug. “I promise.” He grunted and Ciri nodded against his shoulder.

“I know, Geralt.” Ciri laughed. 

The door to Geralt’s bedroom opened with a small creak and Jaskier appeared at the door in his pyjama’s. “I didn’t know we were having a hugging party.” He announced and Ciri laughed.

“Come here.” Ciri held an arm open and Jaskier joined the small hug, leaning heavily on Geralt’s side as Ciri hugged them both tight. “I love you both.”

“And we love you Ciri.” Jaskier replied for the both of them, Geralt humming his agreement.

As they stood like that, Geralt felt all the pain and worry from the last few weeks wash away. His family was with him. Whole. Happy. And safe.


	22. Chapter 22

Pain. Pain searing pain. Jaskier sat in a hard backed wooden chair, trying to breath through the pain running up his entire torso. The swish of a bat and Jaskier let out a gut wrenching scream as pain tore through his body. He coughed harshly, breathing going ragged as the pain jumped up tenfold. ‘Please stop.” His croaky, tear-filled voice begged. Laughing. They were laughing at him. Jaskier tried to brace himself for the next blow. 

When it came, Jaskier felt himself double over, breathing coming out in short harsh gasps. Black spots danced at his vision. He couldn’t breath. Fear clenched his throat as he hyperventilated on the chair. Another hit to his torso had sparks flashing in Jaskier’s eyes. They were going to kill him.

.....

Geralt had no idea what woke him at 1 that morning. Frowning, he re-adjusted himself on the guest room bed, restlessly rolling onto his side. Jaskier had tried to get him to sleep in their bed with him but Geralt had refused. Jaskier had flashed him a hurt look and Geralt had felt guilty as anything but he’d still refused. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep with Jaskier, hell anytime Jaskier wasn’t in the bed with him, Geralt couldn’t get through a good night’s sleep. But with Jaskier’s injuries, Geralt hadn’t wanted to take the risk of accidentally jostling the bed in the night and hurting the musician.

Grunting, geralt flung the covers back. Maybe he just needed a drink. Silently, opening the guest room bedroom, he moved silently past Ciri’s bedroom. At his and Jaskier’s room he stopped for a moment. He frowned when the silence of the night was disturbed by a small sob and gasp. 

Without a moments hesitation, Geralt opened the bedroom door, heart clenching fearfully as he saw Jaskier tangled in the bed sheets. His eyes were moving rapidly behind closed eyelids, breath coming out in short ragged gasps. Tears ran down his face and there was a light sheen of sweat on Jaskier’s skin.

“Jaskier.” Geralt gently shook the sleeping man awake. Only to have Jaskier to jump bolt upright and swing his injured right hand at Geralt. Thankfully Geralt managed to duck the awkward swing, avoiding Jaskier hurting his hand any further. “Jaskier, wake up. It’s me. You’re safe.” Jaskier whined and Geralt resisted the urge to touch Jaskier again. “Jaskier, it’s Geralt. Wake up.”

Slowly Jaskier’s eyes drifted open, eyes wide with fear as he looked all over the bedroom. Geralt quickly turned on the bedside light, covering the bright shine from Jaskier’s eyes with his body as Jaskier’s took a shaky breath in. And then he dissolved into a sobbing mess. Geralt looked on in panic as Jaskier’s body curled in on itself on Jaskier’s side. Body wracking with loud sobs. Jaskier’s breathing came out in shaky hiccupping gasps.

“Jaskier, hey you’re safe.” Geralt said, glad he’d closed the bedroom door behind him. He didn’t want Ciri waking up and seeing this. “You’re safe.” Geralt climbed into the bed next to Jaskier and put a comforting hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. “Breathe, Jask.”

“Geralt...”. Jaskier stammered, breathing still coming out in desperate gasps.

“Don’t speak. Just breath.” Geralt growled, pulling Jaskier close to him, careful not to upset his injuries further than they already were.

After 10 minutes of Jaskier staggering through following Geralt’s own deep even breathing, Jaskier had his breathing under control enough for him to collapse against Geralt’s chest. His head fell against Geralt’s biceps. Geralt said nothing as tears fell onto his skin. “I’m sorry.” jaskier suddenly stammered, going to lift himself off Geralt but Geralt just grunted, pulling him back down.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Geralt grumbling and Jaskier huffed out a small laugh. Tears were still running down his face.

“I thought they were going to kill me.” Jaskier suddenly said, after 5 minutes of silence. Geralt felt his heart clench painfully at this. “I was so scared, Geralt. I was so fucking scared.” jaskier hiccuped, another painful sob running through his body.

“You’re safe now.” Geralt didn’t know what to say to comfort Jaskier. He felt bone deep anger at the men that had done this to the man he loved. “I know I said I didn’t enjoy hurting people but I wish I could have hurt the people that did this. I wish I could have made them suffer.”

“So do I.’ Jaskier’s quiet voice murmured against Geralt’s bare chest. 

“Do you need anything?” Geralt asked after a few more minutes of quiet.

Jaskier had stopped crying but his body was still shaking slightly. From pain or the memories of what had happened, Geralt didn’t know. “Stay. Please.” Jaskier whispered and Geralt hummed, tightening his arms around Jaskier’s body.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promised, placing a kiss to the brunette’s head.

.......

“Morning.” Geralt’s low voice grumbled as Jaskier slowly came to full wakefulness. Jaskier groaned in answer, burying his face further into Geralt’s chest, trying to escape the light filtering through the curtains. Geralt’s soft laugh vibrated through his chest and Jaskier felt himself sink further down.

“Morning.” Jaskier mumbled, eyes closing again. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.” Geralt grumbled, hand gently stroking through Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier hummed in contentment.

They stayed like that for a little while longer until Ciri’s footsteps thumping down the corridor came through the door. Geralt laughed long and low like a brass band, Jaskier thought. “Time to get up.” Geralt grumbled and Jaskier whined again.

“Can’t we stay here forever?” Jaskier had never liked morning’s and the warmth and comfort from being sleeping next to Geralt had made this the best sleep Jaskier had had since his kidnapping. Distantly, he remembered last night and winced a little at his display of emotions. “I’m sorry.” Jaskier mumbled and Geralt’s hand in his hair paused. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.” Geralt stated, continuing his gentle stroking of Jaskier’s hair. “Can’t sleep well without you.”

“That makes two of us.” jaskier laughed softly and Geralt hummed.

They stayed in bed a few moments longer, neither wanting to break the companionable silence before Ciri’s voice shouted through their door. “I’m making breakfast, do you want Tea?”

“We’ll be down in a minute.” Geralt shouted back, ignoring Jaskier’s groan.

Gently, Geralt lifted Jaskier from his position and settled him back in the bed. Jaskier whined at the loss of heat, snuggling back into the bed. “Breakfast in bed?” Geralt asked and Jaskier almost said yes. He was bone weary. A side affect of the injuries and strong pain killers, making him so tired all the time. Coupled with last night’s emotional outburst Jaskier could have happily rolled over and gone back to sleep. But no. He had been serious yesterday when he’d said Ciri needed normalcy. So he had to get up. 

“No, I’ll get up.” Gerlat’s soft expression twisted into a frown but he didn’t argue.

Jaskier tried to ignore Geralt’s hovering as he lifted himself into a seated position. Jaskier grimaced in pain as his ribs creaked in pain from lying in the same position all night. Geralt wordlessly passed Jaskier his crutch as the musician sidled onto the side of the bed. His right knee was stiff from sleep and his left leg almost gave out as he stood up. Geralt put a steadying hand on Jaskier’s arm as the singer breathed through the pain and got his balance. 

“You don’t have to push yourself.” Geralt murmured when Jaskier waved him away to stop holding him up.

“I’m fine Geralt.” Jaskier just said, ignoring the disbelieving look Geralt shot him.

By the time Jaskier had made it to the breakfast table, geralt hovering the whole way down the stairs, Jaskier was exhausted. “Morning,”. Ciri said brightly through a mouthful of toast. Jaskier was too breathless to reply so sent her a smile in return.

“Don’t eat with your mouthful.” Geralt told Ciri, who just rolled her eyes in answer. Jaskier sent geralt a grateful look as the other man put toast, tea and his painkillers in front of him. “Eat before you take those.” Jaskier’s stomach turned a little at the idea of food but he nodded. He knew he needed to start eating properly again, if only to get Geralt and Ciri’s worried looks off him every time he spent a meal half heartedly picking at his food. But in truth, Jaskier just wasn’t all that hungry. He didn’t know if it was the pain or the pit of despair that while low still tugged at him whenever his mind wandered to the events of his kidnapping. He’d almost fallen head first into the pit of despair last night as memories of pain and hurt hit him over and over again but Geralt had stopped him. He’d offered Jaskier the life line he needed to not let the memories drown him.

“You’ve got an appointment at the hospital today right?” Geralt asked and Jaskier nodded.

“Spending all afternoon their I think.” Jaskier announced. Geralt grunted, he’d gotten the list of appointments from Ciri and stuck them to the fridge along with Jaskier’s prescription so they wouldn’t forget.

“Do you mind Yennefer taking you to college today?” Geralt asked, knowing full well Ciri didn’t as they’d discussed this yesterday.

“Nope.” 

“Good, Yenn will be here in an hour so don’t be late.” Ciri rolled her eyes at that but nodded anyway.

......

A knock on their front door signalled Yennefer’s arrival exactly an hour later. When Geralt opened the door, he was greeted with a smirk from the raven haired woman. “So you two talked did you.” Geralt didn’t answer, knowing Ciri would have already told Yennefer everything from the night before. “Good.” Yennefer replied, obviously not expected an answer as she pushed past Geralt into the living room.  
He   
“Yennefer.” Jaskier greeted. Geralt had go Jaskier to go back to bed after breakfast,t hey didn’t need to start getting ready for the hospital for another hour yet and if all else failed Geralt didn’t see why Jaskier couldn’t go without a shower. But Jaskier refused, saying he was quite happy on the sofa and that not everyone wanted to smell like they’d just been on a 10 mile run.

‘Jaskier, thanks for the flowers.” Yennefer greeted and a large smile split across Jaskier’s face.

“It’s the least I can do after everything you and Triss have done for me.” Yennefer shrugged.

“Just get yourself better so you can come back and perform at the bar. I think my ears might bleed if I have to listen to another one of those idiotic tribute acts Triss got to replace you.” Geralt didn’t miss the wince Jaskier gave at the mention of performing again but the smile remained in place, if a little less wide.

“You could never replace me.” Yennefer snorted but didn’t argue. 

“Ready?” Ciri asked as she appeared in the living room. Yennefer nodded and their pair said goodbyes before disappearing from the cottage, leaving Jaskier and Geralt alone in the small living room.

......

Jaskier tried to keep the nerves to himself as Geralt pulled up in the hospital car park. He had a physiotherapist appointment, following by a meeting with Tissaia who’d agreed to borrow a Doctor’s room for their appointment rather than making Jaskier travel to her own office. The nurses also said they’d change his bandages for him seeing as he was there already.

“You don’t have to come with me.” Jaskier stated as Geralt got out of the drivers side and moved to help Jaskier out of the passenger side.

“I don’t mind.” Geralt said, letting Jaskier use his arm to pull himself out of the car. “Anyway, Ciri said I missed the tutorial on changing your bandages.” Jaskier flushed at that.

“You don’t have to.” Jaskier started before being shushed by Geralt.

“I want to. I want to be able to help.” Jaskier nodded, letting Geralt lead the way into the hospital.

By the time they were sitting in the Doctor’s room, waiting for the nurse to come in and change Jaskier’s bandages, Jaskier was exhausted. It had been the furthest he’d walked since his kidnapping and his muscles were protesting against it.

Jaskier leaned his head onto Geralt’s shoulder, eyes closing against his will. Maybe he could just get a few minutes nap before the nurse came. Except he couldn’t because at that moment the nurse and Doctor Priscilla walked into the room. Jaskier stifled the groan at being forced to stay awake, ignoring Geralt’s worried look as Doctor Priscilla sat in the chair opposite Jaskier and Geralt.

“I thought I’d come and see how you were doing before you get your bandages changed.” She stated and Jaskier nodded in agreement. “How are feeling then Jaskier?”

“Erm, a bit sore and stiff.” Jaskier admitted. The Doctor nodded.

“You want to hop onto the examination table?” Jaskier nodded, accepting the steadying arm Geralt gave him. The nurse then proceeded to take the bandages off around his various injuries, demonstrating to Geralt how to remove them without hurting Jaskier. Geralt watched intently while Jaskier closed his eyes tiredly. 

Doctor Priscilla then turned to looking at each injury in turn before motioning for the nurse to re-wrap the injuries. Once more Geralt watched intently, nodding as the nurse explained how tightly they needed to be fastened. 

“You look tired, Jaskier?” Doctor Priscilla said once the nurse had left them to it. Jaskier nodded in answer.

“It’s nothing to worry about is it?” Geralt asked, tone full of worry and Jaskier felt guilt well up at the worried tone. He reached over to squeeze Geralt’s hand, offering him a comforting smile.

“Absolutely not. You’re probably just trying to do a bit much?” The Doctor asked and Jaskier nodded a little sheepishly. He knew he was pushing it with what his body would let him do but Jaskier couldn’t bare the fact he was stuck unable to do what he normally would. “I’d recommend trying to cut back a little. Your body still needs a lot of rest to heal and the more you try to do the longer it will take to heal. Geralt hummed in agreement and Jaskier groaned silently. Chances where the white haired man would force Jaskier into bed the minute they got home and refuse to let him move again. “But you’re healing up well. Just take it easy.”

Geralt and Jaskier thanked the Doctor, moving out of her office and back into the hospital corridor. “We can cancel the other appointments if you’re to tired.” Geralt grunted as Jaskier staggered over to a group of seats. His left leg was rebelling under him and he knew if he didn’t sit down for 5 minutes he’d probably end up flat on his face.

“No. We’re here now might as well get it done with.” 

“Jaskier, you heard what the Doctor said. Don’t push yourself.” Geralt grumbled.

“I know. When we get home I’ll go straight to bed but right now I just want to get this over with so I don’t have to come back again.” For a week at least, Jaskier thought bitterly. He’d been nervous to leave the hospital but as soon as he’d gotten home he’d hated the idea of having to come back to the hospital. Even if these were only appointments, he still hated being here.

“Ok, but if you get to tired tell me.” Jaskier nodded his assent, pulling the crutch up so he could stand up.

“So, where to next?”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if anything stated in this chapter is incorrect. I have no idea what physiotherapist entails (other than what the internet says) or what is discussed therapy so I hope it sounds realistic enough. Hope you enjoy

“That’s it push as hard as you can.” Jaskier grunted in pain as he pushed his right leg into the physiotherapists outstretched hand. He cringed out how weak the push. “Good,”. Doctor Howard stated, sending an encouraging smile. “And stretch back.” Jaskier gasped as pain spiked up his leg as the Doctor helped push Jaskier’s leg gently back in. “I know it hurst but the stretches will help with getting the muscles working again. Jaskier nodded, breathing deeply as the pain lessened. “Try getting your boyfriend to do these exercises with you. Once a day.” Doctor Howard continued, sending a look at Geralt.

Jaskier had agreed to Geralt sitting in with this appointment as well, his physiotherapist saying it would be good if someone else knew how to help with doing these exercises so Jaskier could do them at home. “Geralt, come over here.” He nodded, motioning for Geralt to take his now vacated seat. Jaskier sent Geralt an encouraging smile as Doctor Howard walked Geralt through the appropriate grip on Jaskier’s leg. “Excellent.” The Doctor grinned as Jaskier worked through the exercise with Geralt’s help. “Try and do this once a day for a few minutes. It’s not much but it really will help.” Geralt nodded in agreement.

“Now, let’s see your hand.” The Doctor stated, moving to Jaskier’s right hand. He gently undid the Velcro straps holding the bandage in place and nodded. Jaskier saw Geralt wince out of the corner of his eye as he saw the injured hand properly for the first time. It wasn’t a pretty site. The whole hand was a dark blue and purple bruise, his fingers swelled to twice their normal size. “Try wiggling them.” The Doctor encouraged and Jaskier gasped as pain ran up his arm as his fingers slightly moved upwards. “Excellent.” 

The Doctor walked Jaskier through the same exercises as last week, being careful not to over stretch the injured bones. By the time they were done Jaskier’s whole right hand was an aching weight and he felt a bit sick from the pain. But he was a little elated. He’d actually been able to move the fingers this time. In fairness, he’d only moved them less than half an inch but considering last week he hadn’t even been able to move them at all it was massive progress.

“We’ll book the appointment for the same time next week.” The Doctor stated, handing Geralt the slip of paper with Jaskier’s appointment time. “And if you keep doing those exercises at least once a day. It will help.” Jaskier and Geralt both nodded in agreement. “You’re improving well but try not to push yourself. It will take time and if you over exert yourself it will just set you back.” The Doctor finished.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t.” Geralt grunted and Jaskier sent an eye roll in his direction. 

“Excellent.” Doctor Howard said, saying his goodbye as they exited the room.

......

Tissaia de Vries was waiting for Jaskier when he and Geralt got to the Doctor’s room the woman had taken over for her hour session. Geralt was waiting outside for Jaskier to finish, having refused Jaskier’s suggestion of him going for a walk. He wanted to be there in case Jaskier needed him, which while making Jaskier feel a bit like he was being smothered, was also an odd comfort. Nothing would happen while Geralt was here and Jaskier felt safe knowing that.

“What would you like to discuss today?” Tissaia asked Jaskier. She liked to let him lead their sessions, letting him talk about what he wanted and Jaskier appreciated it. It let him skirt the topics he was still uncomfortable discussing.

“Me and Geralt have sorted out our issues.” Jaskier stated and Tissaia nodded.

“So you talked through your issues.”

Jaskier nodded. “Yes, he explained why he lied to me. Told me the whole truth. It’s...It’s not nice, the truth.” Jaskier admitted. “I don’t...I don’t think I like what he does. But...but I think I understand why he does it. He’s fighting monsters. He’s trying to do good. Even if he does hurt people.” Jaskier dropped his gaze to his hands in his lap. “But he’s still the same man. He’s been there for since we talked it out. He hasn’t run from anything even...”. Here Jaskier trailed off, words refusing to say what he was thinking.

“Even when...”. Tissaia prompted.

Jaskier took a shaky hand to take a drink of the glass of water in front of him. “I had a nightmare last night. About what happened. I...I don’t think I want to talk about that.” Jaskier felt panic clawing at his throat as the memories of what had happened hit him.

“I won’t ask you to.” Tissaia agreed, straightening an already straight pen on the desk. “What did Geralt do?”

“He...he comforted me. He let me cry. He held me.” Jaskier said, a smile playing on his lips, remembering the warmth of Geralt’s embrace. “He was there for me.”

“And are you afraid he’s not going to stay?” Tissaia asked and Jaskier thought for a moment before answering.

“No. No I’m not.” Tissaia nodded.

“Is it helping writing your thoughts down?” Tissaia asked and Jaskier nodded. While he’d still be in the hospital, waking up in a panic every night it had been the only lifeline he had. And it had helped. It was like the more he wrote down the less the memories felt like they were dragging him down.

........

When Jaskier walked out of the Doctor’s room, Geralt felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. Jaskier still looked tired but it looked like some of the weight he’d been carrying around for the last few weeks had been lifted. “You ok?” Geralt asked and Jaskier nodded.

“Ready to go home.” Geralt nodded. Letting Jaskier link his injured right arm through Geralt’s own. Careful of the broken hand, Geralt took some of Jaskier’s weight as they made their way back to the car.

As Geralt pulled out of the hospital car park, Jaskier was already snoring gently against the window of the car. His hair was mushed up against the window and he had a content and calm look on his face. Geralt paused for a moment, grabbing his phone at the next red light and taking a quick picture.

.....

Yennefer dropped Ciri off that night, with take out in hand. Geralt grumbled at the sight of the unhealthy food but the smiles on both Jaskier and Ciri’s face shut him up. Jaskier insisted on Yennefer staying and the four of them found themselves sitting at the table, passing around fillings for taco’s.

“Dara asked if I could meet him for coffee next weekend.” Ciri said, taking a bite of her own taco.

“Oh, you can wear one of your new dresses.” Jaskier said, happily. 

“I was thinking the red one.” Ciri announced.

“And is this a date?” Yennefer cut in and Geralt felt his eyes narrow. He’d met Dara a few times and he was good to Ciri but still, he couldn’t help but feel overprotective of Ciri.

Ciri just shrugged, sharing a look with Jaskier which had Gerlat and Yennefer both directing glares at the musician. Jaskier cleared his throat, taking a bite out of the taco.

“Maybe.” Ciri said shyly.

“Then I’ll drop you off.” Geralt grunted.

“Planning on scaring the boy Geralt?” Yennefer asked and Geralt grunted in answer. Yennefer sent an approved look at Geralt.

Ciri dropped her head in her hands in embarrassment before sending a pleading look at Jaskier. “Maybe I can tag along. Make sure Geralt doesn’t scare him off too much.” Geralt grunted while Ciri smiled in thanks.

As the 4 talked, Geralt felt a swell of happiness in his chest. Jaskier was actually eating more than he had previously and the smile on his face was infectious. Even Yennefer was smiling at the conversation.

That night as Geralt settled himself into the bed next to Jaskier, feeling the sleeping man snuggle closer to Geralt in his sleep, Geralt felt all the pain and sorrow from the last month evaporate. Holding Jaskier in his arms, knowing Ciri was sleeping peacefully and happily in the bedroom across the hall, Geralt felt at home. With his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming to the end now, possibly another 2 chapters left and then it’s completed. I hope you are all enjoying and thank you for reading.


	24. Chapter 24

5 months later

“You’re sure about this?” Geralt asked as he pulled into London. They’d dropped Ciri off at the Sorceresses Lodge for the morning with Yennefer and Triss. 

“Positive.” Jaskier said, sending Geralt a reassuring grin. Geralt grunted, still not completely certain but he wasn’t going to argue. Jaskier had come a long way in the last 5 months. He no longer woke every night in a cold sweat from a nightmare. While they hadn’t gone, they were far enough apart that Geralt felt some of the worry in his heart melt whenever Jaskier tossed or turned in his sleep.

2 months ago, Jaskier had started to sing around the house again. Just little melodies at first but now he was signing his own songs again, working out the composition as he sat bent over a notebook, pen in hand. His ribs were healed now and Jaskier no longer winced whenever Geralt hugged him too tightly. Geralt still winced whenever he saw the scar on Jaskier’s side where he;d been shot but Jaskier always dragged him out of those thoughts with a small kiss on the lips. 

The physiotherapist had helped Jaskier with his leg and he was now able to start walking around on his right knee again. It wasn’t completely healed but the Doctor’s had fitted Jaskier with a knee brace and coupled with the crutch which Jaskier still had to use, Jaskier was able to move around a lot easier. He proved this on their first shopping trip 2 weeks ago after Jaskier had been allowed to walk on the right knee. Geralt had had a hard time keeping up with Jaskier’s wandering around the store. He’d been laughing and grinning like a kid in a sweet shop and while Geralt usually hated shopping, he would have stayed in that store all day if it had kept the smile on Jaskier’s face. 

Jaskier’s right hand was still wrapped in a support bandage, the limb still very stiff and Jaskier still had shoots of pain when he moved his fingers wrongly. But he was slowly getting the use of the limb back. He was able to hold a pen in his right hand now, though the hand cramped painfully whenever Jaskier spent too long with his fingers in one position. The physiotherapist had suggested with a few more months of physiotherapist, Jaskier should be able to gain the full use back. Jaskier’s face had almost spilt from the smile that had earned.

Geralt, Eskel and Lambert had taken a new direction with the Witcher’s. Surprisingly, it had been Ciri’s idea. They’d been in the middle of a family gathering at Vesemir’s house when the girl said that she thought the Witcher’s would make excellent private security. They’d laughed it off at first but slowly the idea had stuck. They could still protect the London streets in the way they had previously, keeping the drugs and violent gangs away. But they didn’t have to make their money illegally. After all, all of London knew about the Witcher’s and they knew that no one was stupid enough to mess with a Witcher. So they’d diverted into private security. It might not be as high paying as shipping illegal products overseas but the smile Jaskier had given him had let Geralt know they were doing the right thing. They were still helping people, still offering protection to the little man. But by being at least partly legal, Geralt could sleep a little easier knowing his family were a bit safer than they had been.

He and Jaskier had had a few rocky moments over the last 5 months. Jaskier couldn’t stand the way that Geralt hovered over him at every wince of pain or slight wobble on his feet. But they’d managed. And true to Geralt’s word, he had stayed. He’d been there for Jaskier at every turn, even if he had had to stamp down some of his more overprotective feelings. Jaskier valued his independence and as hard as it had been for Geralt to watch Jaskier struggle, Geralt had known he had to at least let him try.

Ciri was happy as well. She’d been a bit quiet after Jaskier had returned home and it turned out she had been hiding how scared she had been about everything. Ciri had ended up curled up on the sofa, crying into Geralt and Jaskier’s shoulder’s alternatively as she told them how she’d felt when Jaskier had been taken away from them. Jaskier had ended up sobbing along with her. Geralt had sworn then and there he would never ever let anyone hurt his little family again. After the night of tears, Ciri had bounced back and Geralt had to admire it. He hadn’t realised anything had been wrong with Ciri until she was back to how she had been after the kidnapping. And he couldn’t have been more proud of how Ciri had handled everything.

..........

As Geralt pulled into the spot opposite Jaskier’s studio, Jaskier stamped down on the memories that ran through his mind. geralt took hold of his hand and squeezed gently. 3 months after the kidnapping, after a particularly bad nightmare, Jaskier had finally told Geralt everything that had happened. It had been a long night and Geralt’s grip on Jaskier’s body had tightened more and more as Jaskier talked about the pain and the fear. When he was done, Jaskier had lifted his head to see silent tears running down Geralt’s face. “I’m sorry.” Geralt had said and Jaskier had hushed him. It hadn’t been Geralt’s fault it had been no one but the monsters that had done it.

Telling Geralt had been the turning point and every day since Jaskier could feel himself returning to his normal self. He still found himself jumping at sudden sounds and strangers appearing out of no where. But slowly he was regaining his confidence. And he was happy again. No longer fighting the tugging grips of fear and pain at every turn.

“Come on.” jaskier said, leading the way out of the car and across the street. he could feel his heart beating harshly against his chest as they got to the front door. Geralt took Jaskier’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as Jaskier pulled out his keys and opened the door.

As they walked up the stairs, Jaskier paused halfway up, closing his eyes from the memories flashing through his mind. Of a gunshot, blinding pain in his knee and falling head first down the stairs. Jaskier’s hand drifted to his right knee, feeling the brace sitting over the top of his jeans and breathed raggedly. Geralt was a steady presence at his side as Jaskier climbed the final steps to the studio door.

It had been Tissaia de Vries idea for him to return. She’d said he was progressing well but it would help to see the scene of the crime. That seeing the place he had been hurt would go a long way to helping him recover. It had taken 3 months after that conversation but yesterday morning, Jaskier had woken up and decided it was time. It had taken all day to persuade Geralt to take him. Plus Jaskier threatening to just go on his own. Geralt had agreed, if only to make sure Jaskier wouldn’t have to deal with it alone.

Jaskier pushed open the studio door, standing in the doorway, looking at the place his pain had began. Eskel, Lambert, Triss and Yennefer had been down and gone through the studio, cleaning up the mess that had been made. Even the bullet hole in the door had been taken out. Jaskier walked past Geralt, going to the window leading to the roof. Closing his eyes, Jaskier saw bright wide emerald eyes blown wide in fear. Geralt’s hand on his shoulder made him jump but as he opened his eyes, Jaskier saw the roof top quiet as always. 

Jaskier turned around, looking at the instruments sitting in their usual places. His sheet music had been tidied up and dropped at their house when the Witcher’s had tidied the studio. Jaskier had spent a whole day going through the music, smiling at the lyrics and random compositions he’d scrawled down.

The guitar Jaskier had been planning to use to show Ciri his newest song the day he’d been kidnapped was sitting in it’s guitar case and Jaskier ran his hand over it, calming at the feel of the familiar wood. gently, he lifted it out of the case, starting to tune it with his left hand. Geralt watched from his place leaning against the wall as Jaskier moved the guitar into position. His right fingers were stiff as they strummed a gentle tune but Jaskier ignored the spasm of pain as he played a few chords. After a few minutes, he fingers spammed and Jaskier was forced to put the instrument down.

“You ok?” Geralt asked, amber eyes never having left Jaskier sitting on the couch.

“Yes. I am actually.” jaskier said, surprising himself a little. He hadn’t expected it to be this easy but looking around he found himself forgetting the memories of being taken and instead remembering others. Of hours spent making out with Geralt on this couch. Of composing his first song in the recording studio he’d so lovingly created upon purchasing the apartment.

He met Geralt’s amber eyes with his own blue ones and finally, after all these long months, felt peace run through him.

3 days later 

After dinner at a restaurant, Jaskier and Geralt walked through Hyde park, enjoying the quiet. It was cold, winter starting to take hold of the days. Jaskier walked with his right arm linked with Geralt’s, crutch helping his still limping right leg walk along. Ciri was spending the night with Yennefer.

Geralt looked down at Jaskier’s, warm against his side and felt the weight in his pocket. He’d talked with Ciri that morning and the teenager had nearly jumped in excitement when Geralt told her what he was going to do. He’d been so certain. Had been planning it this for nearly a month but couldn’t decide how to do it. That morning, seeing Jaskier blink up at him as Geralt kissed him awake, Geralt had known today was the day. Except now nerves were bubbling up within him. What if Jaskier said no. What if it was too soon.

“What’s wrong?” Jaskier’s blue eyes tilted up to meet Geralt’s amber ones. Jaskier’s nose was red from the cold. Geralt leant down and placed a kiss on it, causing Jaskier to giggle.

“I love you.” Geralt stated, stopping in place. The path was quiet, lit by the warm glows of street lights. 

“I love you too.” Jaskier laughed, leaning up to kill Geralt’s lips. Geralt let himself be pulled into the warm embrace, letting the doubt and fear evaporate on the breath of Jaskier’s kiss.

Geralt stepped back, earning a huff of disappointment from Jaskier. Geralt’s hand went to his pocket, playing with the box sitting there. “I need to tell you something.” Geralt said, moving to stand in front of Jaskier. He had hold of Jaskier’s left hand with his own.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, confusion running into his tone. 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me Jask.” Geralt started. “I love you, more than anything. And so does Ciri. You’re family...I...fuck.” Geralt growled. His words were coming out in stutters. It always looked so fucking easy on those romantic films Jaskier made him watch. He let go of Jaskier’s hand, taking the box from his pocket and fiddling with the lid. “I want...I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Geralt stated and he heard the small gasp come from Jaskier as Geralt opened the box, revealing the ring sitting there. “I don’t...fuck...I don’t know how to say this.”

“Geralt...”. Jaskier started but Geralt cut him off.

“No...Ciri, told me not to fucking mess this up.” Geralt growled, remembering the serious look on Ciri’s face when he’d told her his plans for the night. She’d told him he better do it tonight or she would just ask Jaskier herself. “I don’t want to. I wanted to do this right.”

“You are.” Jaskier breathed, taking the hand Geralt wasn’t holding the box into his own left hand. “It’s is perfect.”

Geralt grunted, lowering his head to press his forehead against Jaskier’s. Jaskier kissed him slowly, right hand going to rest in Geralt’s white hair. Geralt could feel the minute tremble in the fingers as they wrapped themselves in Geralt’s hair. “Jaskier...”. Geralt started, pulling away from the kiss. He needed to say this before he lost his nerve and the kissing was distracting him.

“Geralt.” Jaskier replied, smiling playing on his kissed red lips.

“Marry me?” Geralt grunted out, the words coming out more angry than he’d meant. And fuck he’d messed this up hadn’t he. That was in by no way a romantic way to ask someone to marry them.

“Of course I will.” Jaskier said, lips back on Geralt’s own and forcing the worry in Geralt’s mind away.

“Really?” Geralt asked, surprise tinged in his voice because he was still expecting Jaskier to say no.

Jaskier laughed softly, arms wrapping Geralt in a hug. “Yes Geralt. Now shut the fuck up and kiss me already.” And Geralt did just that.


	25. Chapter 25

7 months later

“Fuck.” Geralt swore, pulling the dark blue tie again and re-doing it.

“Stop that.” Ciri told him as Geralt struggled with the knot again. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not straight.” Geralt grunted. Butterflies swarmed in his stomach as he looked in the mirror in front of him. He was dressed in his stomach and Geralt felt like he was going to be sick.

“It’s fine, Geralt. And if it isn’t straight I don’t think Jaskier will care.” Ciri tugged Geralt to sit on. Seat so she could re-adjust the tie. “Their you go, perfect.” Geralt grunted, running a nervous hand through his white hair.

Ciri was dressed in a bright yellow dress, hair done up in an elaborate braid. “You look good Ciri.” The teenager grinned happily.

“So do you.” Geralt grunted.

“Fuck, why the fuck am I so nervous.” Geralt grumbled. He couldn’t imagine that Jaskier was that nervous. Hell, the man had spent the last 5 months since they’d set a date organising this wedding and he hadn’t even broken a sweat doing it. Hell, he looked like he was actually enjoying it.

‘You have nothing to be worried about.” Ciri told him. “Everything is going to be perfect.”

Geralt met the serious emerald eyes and felt pride swell through him. Ciri had grown into a excellent young woman. And Geralt couldn’t be prouder. “Come here.” He said, pulling his daughter into a hug.

Ciri returned to hug for a moment before pushing away. “Now you better get a move on or you’ll be late.”

....

“You’re sure this is ok?” Jaskier asked for what was probably the 100th time that morning. Yennefer rolled her eyes as Triss nodded her head. He was wearing a light grey tightly fitting suit which complimented Geralt’s own black one. He’d considered white but the colour had never suited him and anyway, he’d liked this one better. Coupled with the dark blue tie, Jaskier thought he;d outdone himself with this outfit.

“You look perfect Jask.” Triss turned him around, tucking a stray piece of brunette hair back into place. “I need a picture, Yennefer stand up.” The violet eyes beauty groaned but didn’t argue. She was dressed as always impeccably. The full length dark purple dress clung to her like a second skin and Jaskier had no doubt Yennefer would be getting a lot of attention for it.

Triss snapped the picture quickly, grinning the whole time. “Ready now?” Yennefer asked, sending Jaskier a smirk.

Jaskier took one more look in the mirror. The brace on his knee was gone now and while we was still walking with a slight limp when he was tired, no one would have thought he’d been shot there a little over a year ago. His right hand was mostly healed now. The fingers were still stiffer than Jaskier liked but last month he’d finally managed to get through a 2 hours set at the Sorceresses Lodge, guitar still in hand for the last song. It had cost him the next day, hand cramping painfully, but he hadn’t cared.

“Come on, you don’t want to be late for you own wedding.” Triss grabbed his hand, all but dragging Jaskier down the corridor in excitement. Yennefer followed at a slightly more subdued pace.

......

The ceremony was simple. Neither Geralt nor Jaskier wanting a large wedding. Immediate family had been invited and to the small chapel and Geralt and Jaskier hadn’t been able to take their eyes off each other as they’d said their vows.

When they’d kissed, Ciri had jumped up from her seat and let out a loud cheer, quickly picked up by Triss. Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert had added their own shouts of encouragement at Ciri’s excited cheer. Yennefer had been a bit more subdued as she clapped but Geralt couldn’t miss the wide smile on the usually stoic woman.

......

“Congratulations.” Ciri was the first person to congratulate them as they exited the small chapel. Jaskier let out a laugh as she gave them both full bodied hugs. 

“Thanks Ciri.” Jaskier laughed, kissing the top of her head as Geralt grunted. Ciri smiled widely as she noticed they’d never let go of each other’s hands in the whole time they were surrounded by their family for hugs.

As the photographer called them into taking a picture, Jaskier pulled her into the middle of he and Geralt. Ciri grinned, as Geralt and Jaskier wrapped their entwined hands around her shoulder, holding her close. Grinning for the picture, Ciri smile happily. Standing between her family.

.......

Jaskier was a little nervous as he took out his guitar. He’d been working on this song since they’d gotten engaged and he still wasn’t convinced it was right. But Ciri had assured him it was perfect when he’d sang it to her. Geralt’s speech had been, unsurprisingly, short and simple. Consisting of mostly grunts and swearing as he stammered his way through an activity he usually hated.

The Witcher’s sitting in the crowd of wedding guests had cheered and stamped their feet upon finish, Lambert leading the cheering, and Jaskier had kissed Geralt when the white haired man, his husband, had finished.

Jaskier strummed the first note and began to sing, eyes never leaving Geralt’s own as he sang through the love song dedicated to the man in front of him. He let himself get lost in those amber eyes as he sang his heart out, letting all the emotions of love flow through into the words. When he was done, he was greeted to a loud cheer and Geralt nearly pulling him off his feet into a kiss.

......

Yennefer smiled approvingly as she watched Geralt and Jaskier dance through their first dance. Geralt’s movements were awkward but Jaskier with his musical ear managed to keep them dancing to the correct beat. “They look good together.” Triss announced from her side and Yennefer hummed.

They did.

.......

As they lay in the hotel bedroom, Jaskier snuggled into Geralt’s side. Both naked and panting, Geralt felt warmth spreads through him. “I love you, husband.” Jaskier sang at him, eyes wide with bliss and Geralt grinned back.

“I love you to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this story and thank you all for reading

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, please review


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